


the ties that bind

by carissima



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 23:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 58,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3587622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissima/pseuds/carissima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of drabbles from tumblr, gathered for easy viewing</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ziam: liam's broken wrist

**Author's Note:**

> so these are all tumblr drabbles, with different pairings, different ratings, very different lengths etc. they're all unbeta'ed so, um, sorry about that!

Liam feels the pain ricochet up his arm before it sings back down and he swears under his breath, wincing as he immediately lifts his injured arm off the stage floor but of course it’s too late. God, he’s such an idiot.

"Liam!" Louis’ there crouched in front of him and Liam braces himself for the rebuke he knows he deserves because he’s an idiot and his arm is never going to heal if he doesn’t stop reinjuring it. But he just forgets, is all. As soon as he gets on stage, he forgets he’s even wearing the cast. He’s an idiot and he deserves Louis’ scorn. All of it.

"For fuck’s sake, Zayn."

Surprised, Liam’s gaze flicks up towards Louis, who’s glaring over Liam’s shoulder. Liam feels a hand slide over his hip, warm and familiar.

"You know he’s incapable of looking after himself," Louis mutters like Liam’s not right there in front of him. "Like a bloody toddler. Ernest and Doris have more self-preservation than Payno."

"I’ve got him, Lou," Zayn murmurs, his other hand sliding under Liam as he gets a solid hold on Liam and hoists him up, a steady rock as Liam finds his feet again. He rubs his bicep absently since he can’t actually get to where the pain is coming from and frowns over at Louis.

"Sorry Lou, I’ll be more careful," he says. The thing is, he’s said them before. Twice that morning and at least once the day before. And he knows he’s said it a hundred times before that. But he puts every ounce of sincerity he can muster into his look, and it must work a little because Louis just huffs and spins on his heel, striding towards Niall who’s watching Liam with a worried look. Liam grins back at him and waves with his good hand before Louis reaches him and drags his attention away from Liam.

"Thanks mate," Liam says as he turns, Zayn’s hands falling away from him and leaving him to shiver slightly in the cool Miami evening air. "Won’t happen again. Promise."

He gets an amused, disbelieving look in return but Zayn moves away, microphone lifted as he starts his verse.

*

Liam’s learned to not underestimate Louis. It was a hard lesson for his seventeen year old self to learn but he did. So he really shouldn’t be surprised when Niall shadows him for the next three songs. Or when Harry presses up against him during Alive, his long limbs stretched out like he’s going to gather Liam in if he needs to. Or when Zayn hovers around him, not shadowing him like Niall but just there, all the same. Louis just watches him for the rest of the show, eagle-eyed and poised.

"I can look after myself," he mutters, half-annoyed and half-endeared as they take their final bow.

"Evidence points otherwise, Liam," Louis says, and Liam feels Zayn’s hand curl around his waist as they fall offstage in a bundle of limbs and shouts and bumps and clothes being shed on the way to their dressing room.

"S’alright, I’ll stay with you tonight yeah?" Zayn says quietly as they head to their cars, clothes changed and the adrenaline of performing slowly draining out of them as a group. The comedown is always the hardest and if Zayn’s offering to keep him company for once, Liam’s not going to turn him down.

"Yeah," he says, perhaps a bit too eager, but Zayn just grins at him, his tongue pressing behind his teeth as he gently guides Liam into one of the waiting cars. Liam’s about to struggle with his seatbelt when he realises Zayn’s already doing it for him, snapping the belt into place before turning his attention to his own belt.

"Cheers Zayn," Liam says, touched. When Zayn shrugs, Liam laughs quietly and reaches for Zayn’s hand, tangling their fingers together, resting on the seat between them. "Did you see that guy then, the one near the front who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else than at one of our concerts?"

"Saw him singing along to Best Song Ever," Zayn replies and Liam bursts into laughter, ducking his head into the curve of Zayn’s shoulder. "He was loving it."

"Maybe he just fancied Veronica," Liam says loyally.

"Must be a disappointment to turn up and find it’s just me then," Zayn says, tugging his packet of cigarettes out of his jeans pocket to twirl in his free hand.

Liam wants to disagree, to tell Zayn that he’s fit no matter what, but he doesn’t. It’s just one of those things. One of those things he thinks and never says because they sound a bit, well, not normal thoughts he thinks he should be having about one of his mates and Zayn might think he’s weird.

He’s not.

He just thinks Zayn’s brilliant no matter what and he violently, aggressively disagrees with anyone who thinks differently, that’s all.

So he hums instead and lets his free hand tap out a beat against the car window, and doesn’t say a word.

*

He’s a bit surprised when Zayn follows him into his hotel room, giving Paddy a little wave and a shrug because most nights it’s been him and Paddy watching whatever reality show he can find on cable until he manages to fall asleep in the small hours of the morning. But Zayn’s kicking off his boots and gently guiding Liam down onto the big queen-sized bed, sinking down onto his heels and carefully easing his own boots off. His socks quickly follow and Liam flops back against the bed, clean, freshly made sheets cool against his overly-warm skin.

"Thanks mate," Liam says with a heartfelt sigh. He stares up at the ceiling, starfished out in the middle of the bed and listens to Zayn moving around the room. The bed dips and Zayn slides in next to him; Liam’s arm curling around Zayn’s lithe body as they slowly, easily fit together like two puzzle pieces. Zayn’s foot hooks around his ankle and Liam’s hand slides over Zayn’s hip, fingertips resting on Zayn’s thigh under the thick denim of his jeans. "Haven’t done this in ages," he says. He’s not making a point or anything, it’s just an observation. Zayn’s more likely to be found in Louis’ room these days, and that’s okay. Liam doesn’t mind or anything; Niall’s usually around or he can convince Harry to go for a quick gym session if he feels a bit lonely, no matter how late it gets.

Zayn stiffens next to him all the same and Liam turns his face, eyes crinkled into an easy smile as he meets Zayn’s gaze. “Yeah,” Zayn says, and his voice sounds a bit rough. Liam wonders if he strained it a little during the show and gives half a thought to reaching for the phone to order a hot drink to soothe his throat, but the thought drifts away when Zayn rolls onto his side and his face presses into Liam’s neck. “Gonna look after you though tonight. Make sure you don’t get into any more trouble.”

Liam’s brain short-circuits for a few seconds. He knows Zayn doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, all breathy and soft against his skin, making him shiver slightly as he arches towards Zayn helplessly.

"Yeah?" he manages to say gruffly. "You should, uh, do that."

There’s half a beat before Zayn lifts his head, pulling himself up onto his elbows as he gazes down at Liam with a curious look. Liam can feel his cheeks flushing as Zayn just stares at him, his gaze as always too searching, too knowing.

It makes Liam feel exposed in a way that he really doesn’t want to be. Not for Zayn. Not for anyone. He turns his head away from Zayn, his mouth tightening as he stares resolutely at the wall.

Zayn clears his throat, cutting sharply through the awkward silence that’s fallen over them, an odd, unsettling feeling that makes Liam want to claw at his skin to get rid of it. “Do you wanna shower then?”

"Yeah," Liam says, closing his eyes for a moment before he rolls off the bed and onto his feet as gracefully as he can manage with a broken arm and heavy cast. Preferably a cold shower where he can give his dick a strict talking to about why it’s inappropriate to get excited about innocent remarks his best mate makes when they’re curled up in bed together.

Make that a freezing cold shower then.

"Do you need help?" Zayn asks from the aforementioned bed. When Liam glances over, Zayn looks half-asleep already, his body soft and relaxed against the covers, legs curled up into his chest and his face half-smushed into the sheets that Liam’s just rolled away from.

Liam turns away, heading for the bathroom as his heart pounds in his chest because he’s an idiot. “Zayn, I’ve been showering with a broken arm for weeks. I think I can manage.”

He very determinedly ignores Zayn’s scoff from the bed and slams the bathroom door perhaps just a little too loudly, feeling both childish and a little frustrated. He leans back against the door, letting his pulse even out before he strips quickly and wraps his cast carefully, stepping into the shower and letting the hot water sluice over him.

It takes forever for his mind to clear; the adrenaline rush from the show still racing through his veins and his body thrumming with awareness. He takes his time though, soaping his body and rinsing off, shampooing his hair with a one-handed technique he’s mastered. By the time he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist, his skin is clean and pink from the hot water, his hair dripping and flat against his forehead as he clears the mist away from the mirror and sighs at the miserable reflection he makes.

He unwraps his cast and dries himself off as best he can before he opens the door and walks back into the room, heading for his suitcase and digging out a pair of clean boxers. “Remind me to get some laundry done in the next hotel,” he mutters, half to Zayn and half to himself. Liam steps into his boxers and tugs them up awkwardly over his hips underneath the towel before whipping it off and letting it fall to the floor.

"Feel better?" Zayn asks. He’s moved, now propped up against the headboard and his arms folded behind his head, his legs crossed casually at the ankles. He looks effortlessly relaxed.

"Yeah, loads." Liam crawls onto the bed, the beginnings of the post-show comedown sliding over his skin. "You wanna shower?"

"Too relaxed," Zayn murmurs. "Probably should though."

"Go on," Liam says, giving him a gentle shove that he softens with a smile. "I’ll find something to watch, yeah?"

He reaches for the control as Zayn climbs off the bed, grumbling under his breath. “None of that reality show crap though, babe,” he says before he disappears into the bathroom.

It’s tempting to find a re-run of Real Housewives, but he finds an old episode of Friends that they must have watched a million times before. He finds himself laughing along though at old, tired jokes, finding something calming in the familiar.

He’s mid-laugh when Zayn reappears, a towel wrapped around his lean hips as drips of water shake from his hair down onto his body. His laugh fades as Zayn heads for Liam’s suitcase and emerges triumphantly with as a clean pair of boxers. Liam drags his gaze back to the telly, his smile frozen in place as Zayn slips them on and drops his towel next to Liam’s before he crosses past Liam’s line of sight and flops down onto the bed next to him.

They watch the rest of the episode with elbows nudging into each other, the silence broken by half-laughs and snorts of laughter.

By the time the theme song plays and the credits roll, Liam’s yawning and Zayn’s head is heavy on Liam’s shoulder, the duvet sprawled over their laps.

"You tired?" Liam asks, smothering another yawn as he shuffles down the bed until his head hits the cool, soft pillow and he turns onto his side, towards Zayn. "I feel like I could sleep for a week."

"Probably the safest place for you until that cast comes off," Zayn teases gently as he settles down next to Liam and mirrors his position.

"Shut up," Liam tells him, reaching out to poke Zayn’s belly and grinning when Zayn lets out a soft ‘oof’ and bats his hand away.

"Go to sleep," Zayn tells him before he turns to flip the lights off. "And try not to fall out of bed or anything."

Liam huffs into the darkness, torn between being annoyed and amused. After a few minutes, he feels Zayn shift, moving closer until he’s tucked up behind Liam, a hand settling over Liam’s hip and Zayn’s soft breaths ghosting over his neck. “Just making sure you don’t fall,” Zayn mumbles.

Liam shoves his face into his pillow and breathes out a long, slow sigh. It’s going to be a long night.

*

Zayn doesn’t leave his side. It’s been three long, suffocating days of Zayn being right there all the time. He even comes to the gym, which is the one place Liam had been certain he’d get his privacy, but no, Zayn just threw on a pair of joggers and a headband and grumbled his way through Mark’s regime.

Liam’s woken up to find Zayn pressed up close behind him for three mornings in a row, body warm and soft with sleep, his hand splayed wide and possessive over Liam’s belly, their feet tangled together. It’s inhumane, Liam’s decided. It’s cruel and mean and he’s not sure he can handle waking up one more morning to sneak out of bed with a painfully hard dick and jump into the shower to get an awkward hand on himself and jerk off as best he can before Zayn wakes up.

It’s not helping that Zayn’s become even more tactile than usual. Hardly a moment goes by without Zayn’s leg pressing against his or Zayn’s hand cupping around his neck, his fingers brushing over Liam’s hand or arm, Zayn’s head resting on his shoulder.

And it’s just, well, it’s a lot. Liam’s not used to having Zayn’s full, undivided attention like this. Usually Zayn slips away to have some alone time, or he sneaks away with Louis to do whatever they do. Or he sprawls over Niall’s bed and they doodle on his sketchpad together or he disappears late at night with Harry to have one of their chats.

"You sure you don’t want to go out with the others?" Liam asks for the third time as Zayn follows him into his room. "I don’t mind."

"Stop trying to get rid of me," Zayn grumbles as he flops down onto Liam’s bed. Or their bed, as Liam’s stupidly started to think of it, since Zayn’s scent clings stubbornly to the sheets. "I’ll get a complex."

"I’m not," Liam says as he strips off his shirt and kicks off his boots. "I like having you here. Just thought you might be bored of babysitting me by now."

He ducks into the bathroom for a shower, and it’s not like they have a routine or anything. Except they totally have a routine.

They’re tucked up in bed, telly playing quietly in the background while Liam scrolls through his phone when Zayn turns towards him. “I’m not babysitting you.”

Liam blinks a few times before he smiles and nudges Zayn’s ankle with his foot under the covers. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. Louis asked you to look after me and you’re doing a great job, mate. Haven’t fallen over or hurt my arm in days. But like, if you want to have a break or just like, stop doing it altogether, then I don’t mind. Honestly.”

Zayn frowns but he doesn’t say anything, so Liam goes back to his phone. He plays a few rounds of Candy Crush before he gives in and turns the phone off, leaning over to turn off the lights and pulling the covers up around him.

Barely a second passes before Zayn’s plastered against his back and there’s a hand splayed against his belly. Stifling a groan, Liam squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think about anything other than the fact that Zayn would only have to move a few inches closer and he’d feel Zayn’s dick against his arse.

It’s a thought he’s desperately tried not to think about for four nights now.

As always, it’s a futile effort at best.

"M’not babysitting you," Zayn says huffily. Before Liam can turn around though, Zayn’s hand is moving, rubbing softly against Liam’s belly and it’s all Liam can do not to arch into his touch. "M’looking after you. Taking care of you."

Zayn’s hand dips lower, dangerously lower and Liam bites down hard on his lip, barely containing a strangled moan as he wills his dick to fucking behave.

"You’re doing a great job mate," Liam manages to say, even though it comes out a little breathy and his voice catches more than once. "Best mate ever, I reckon."

"Could be better," Zayn murmurs, and his fingers slide just under the waistband of Liam’s boxers. "Could do more."

Liam’s hips jerk helplessly, his dick fattening up fast in his boxers and god, he’s so embarrassed. He tries to shuffle away, to put some distance between them before Zayn realises what Liam’s body is doing but Zayn’s hand is dipping lower, and lower, until he’s got a loose fist around Liam’s cock and Liam lets out a string of curses, his voice low and throaty as his head falls back onto Zayn’s shoulder.

"Let me help you babe," Zayn whispers into the darkness and Liam can’t help the tiny groan that escapes his lips. "Yeah?"

Liam turns his face into the pillow, thoroughly embarrassed because he’s certain this goes way above and beyond mates helping each other but Zayn’s hand is on his dick and he hasn’t got the strength to push him away.

"Yeah," he says shakily. "God, Zayn. Yeah."

"Good," Zayn murmurs, sounding pleased and Liam lets out another helpless groan.

Zayn’s hand starts to move slowly, fisting him with an unbearably unhurried rhythm that drives Liam insane. His hand is smaller than Liam’s and his grip is looser, but the fact that it’s Zayn touching him at all has him closer to the edge than he wants to be. If this is a one-time offer, he selfishly wants to draw it out, to memorise and embellish every single moment for later, when it’s just him and the ghost of a memory of Zayn jerking him off.

He forces himself to breathe slowly and he resists the urge to push his arse back against Zayn’s crotch, desperate though the urge is.

"Is this okay?" Zayn asks quietly.

A strangled moan is Liam’s answer, the only one he’s capable of making right now and it seems to be enough because he feels Zayn’s lips press against his shoulder as his hand tightens slightly around Liam, finding a firmer grip before he starts mouthing at Liam’s skin and Christ, Liam’s rocking his hips up into Zayn’s hand before he can stop himself.

"More," Liam says breathlessly, any shame going right out the window because Zayn’s got his lips on Liam’s skin and a hand wrapped around Liam’s dick and Liam just wants. “Please Zayn. Need more.”

"I’ve got you babe," Zayn tells him and Liam huffs out a shaky laugh as Zayn pulls him in closer, his hand fisting Liam faster as his thumb drags along the underside of Liam’s dick and drags a husky groan from Liam’s lips. "Whatever you want, okay? Whatever you need."

"Need you," Liam tells him, giving into temptation and pushing back against Zayn and almost coming right then and there when he feels Zayn’s dick, Zayn’s hard, erect dick pressing up against his arse. "Oh god. Zayn. Fuck."

"Always wanna look after you," Zayn murmurs into Liam’s neck, making Liam shiver helplessly. "Let me?"

"Yeah," Liam says, arching his neck, huffing out a happy little sound when Zayn bites down gently before he starts to suck. "Christ, Zayn, whatever you want. Please. Just don’t stop touching me, yeah?"

"Never," Zayn says, and he makes it sound like a promise.

Liam whines and turns his head, forcing Zayn to abandon his marking of Liam’s skin. Liam’s lips seek Zayn’s, sighing happily when they finally connect and he can kiss Zayn.

He’s fucking kissing Zayn. Zayn, who’s kissing him back. Zayn, who’s still lazily jerking him off. Zayn, who’s making noises into Liam’s mouth like he wants this as much as Liam does.

When Zayn’s hand moves away from Liam’s dick, Liam whimpers, shaking his head even as Zayn’s climbing over him, forcing Liam gently onto his back as he straddles Liam’s hips. Liam’s gaze travels over Zayn’s face, the heavy-lidded eyes, the flushed cheeks, the bitten, pink, slick lips. Down Zayn’s lean body to where Liam’s hands are splayed over Zayn’s waist, keeping him in place. Over Zayn’s boxers, tented where he’s hard and Liam’s mouth goes dry.

"You said," Zayn says, before he clears his throat. "You said I could do whatever I want."

Liam nods as his hand slides up Zayn’s body, still bemused that Zayn’s letting him do this. That Zayn’s arching into his touch. Amazed that Zayn’s breath hitches as Liam’s hand slips into Zayn’s hair. He watches in fascination as Zayn closes his eyes and his lips part.

And then Zayn’s moving, wriggling down Liam’s body and tugging Liam’s boxers off before he crawls up between Liam’s parted legs and Christ. Liam has to dig his own thumbs into his thighs to stop himself coming right then and there.

Zayn nuzzles his cheek against Liam’s thigh, his stubble scratching against Liam’s sensitive skin and drawing a low moan from him. His hands reach down to slide into Zayn’s hair, his fingernails scratching lightly over Zayn’s scalp. When Zayn glances up, he looks hungry, licking his lips and Liam swears low and fierce.

Zayn’s eyes don’t leave his as he reaches for Liam’s dick, stroking him once before he ducks down and Liam lets out a hiss as Zayn’s mouth closes around him.

"Oh God oh Christ oh fuck," he babbles, his fingers tightening in Zayn’s hair as Zayn sucks gently before his tongue drags slowly up his shaft. He’s so hot and turned on and trying desperately not to come too fast because Zayn’s sucking him off that he doesn’t realise that Zayn’s nudging his head into Liam’s hands. It takes him a few more seconds before he cottons on and threads his fingers through Zayn’s hair, tugging gently. It makes Zayn moan around his dick which is so fucking awesome, the way Zayn’s throat closes for a moment around his dick, velvety smooth and warm that Liam does it again and again, driven by the way Zayn’s mouth gets sloppy and wet around his dick and how Zayn forces himself down deeper each time he bobs down, desperately taking more of Liam’s dick every time.

"Zayn," Liam whines. His hips jerk up helplessly and Zayn freezes, choking for a moment before Liam pulls back, eyes wide as he scrambles back. "Fuck, shit, I’m sorry. Fuck, Zayn, are you alright? I’m so sorry!"

"Again," Zayn slurs, his voice wrecked as he glances up at Liam, his skin flushed but his eyes fierce. "Please."

"You want me to uh, fuck your mouth?" Liam asks. He reaches down to brush his thumb over Zayn’s cheek and feels rather than sees Zayn’s nod. "Okay. Yeah, I can do that."

He tugs Zayn down slowly, guiding his dick back into Zayn’s mouth and waiting for Zayn to settle himself against the mattress before he lifts his hips up, pushing carefully into Zayn’s warm, waiting mouth.

"This isn’t gonna last long babe," Liam says, his voice trembling with strain and need. He builds up a rhythm, keeping it slow and careful because he’s got no idea if this is a thing Zayn does regularly or whether it’s his first time. Both trains of thought make his head spin.

He fucks up into Zayn’s willing mouth until his balls tighten and he tugs hard on Zayn’s hair before he slides his hand down and shoves at Zayn’s shoulder. “Gonna come,” he gasps as Zayn pulls back, replacing his mouth with his hand and he jerks Liam once before he comes, wet and sticky over Zayn’s hand. Liam falls back against the bed, his heart pounding and barely capable of coherent thought as he vaguely registers Zayn’s movements. When he can open his eyes, it’s to Zayn, naked and fisting himself as he stares up at Liam, looking thoroughly wrecked and beautifully tousled, thanks to Liam he thinks in awe, and then he’s coming, beautiful white steaks of come striping Liam’s thighs as Zayn’s back arches and his lips part in a silent cry.

As soon as he’s done, Liam drags him down into his arms, wrapping Zayn up as tightly as he can, burying his head into Zayn’s shoulder as he holds on, not entirely sure he’s even capable of letting go. Ever.

"Wanted to look after you," Zayn mumbles eventually. His voice is fucked and Liam spends half a second feeling guilty before utter happiness bubbles up inside of him.

"You did," Liam tells him, his voice reverent as he strokes a comforting hand up and down Zayn’s back, feeling the way Zayn’s muscles relax against him. "You did so good, babe. So good."

Zayn says something incoherent, and Liam thinks he’s probably half-asleep already.

"Kind of spoiled me though, Zayn," Liam says quietly into the silence, only broken by Zayn’s uneven breathing like he’s still trying to catch his breath. "Might need you to look after me again."

"Until you’re better," Zayn agrees, turning his head and smiling shyly into Liam’s neck.

Oh god, it’s adorable.

"Yeah, at least til then," Liam agrees. "And you know, I’ll have to return the favour. S’only polite."

Zayn huffs out a laugh against his neck, warm and inviting and Liam ducks his head to press his lips against Zayn’s. Which is a thing he can do now. Kiss Zayn.

Fuck.


	2. lirry: zombie apocalypse

Liam’s got a permanent limp. He’s not sure how long he’s had it since time has lost all meaning, but he thinks maybe the winter before last. He’d tripped when he’d been in a store raid for supplies and fallen on a metal pin that had trapped him before Niall had pulled him up and away. Niall hadn’t let go, not while Liam had slowed him down and begged to be left behind, desperate for Niall to escape.

"Harry’d never forever me," Niall had muttered, gritting his teeth and getting a better grip on Liam’s tattered shirt to tug him along.

When they’d gotten back to their base, Louis had stitched him up as best he could with their medical supplies and Liam had been grateful but Louis’ medical knowledge had been limited and Liam had limped ever since. He hasn’t got anything to complain about really, not when he’s still alive while over 80% of the world’s population had died out in the years after the zombies first appeared. 

But it’s over now, according to the radio blasts they’d finally picked up and it’s true that they haven’t seen a zombie in almost a month now. People have started to appear in places Liam hasn’t seen them in years, walking down the street with quick glances over their shoulders from years of survival instincts kicking in but they’re there. People. 

Maybe Harry’s one of them. And Zayn. Liam hopes so but he’s not letting himself think about it too much. The odds aren’t high and even if they did manage to make it, it’ll take years for society to reach anything vaguely normal again, for people to find loved ones or declare them dead. 

The world’s gone to hell and Liam is right there with it. He’s killed now. He’s eaten things he’d never dreamt of eating back before this nightmare started. He’s stolen and scavenged and learned how to master weapons to make sure Louis and Niall survived this; not even knowing if surviving was an option.

He’s tired and scarred and he’s lost more than he could ever find again. His parents and sisters have gone; he knows that much. Louis’ entire family wiped out. Most of Niall’s, although there’s a question mark over Bobby. If anyone could survive, Liam thinks, it’s Bobby, but they don’t talk about it. 

They haven’t talked about Harry or Zayn for a long, long time. Liam’s not sure whether it’s because they know it’s too painful for Liam or because they’ve lost hope, but either way, Liam’s not let Harry’s name pass his lips in over seven seasons of weather. But he dreams about him every night, wakes up with Harry’s face fresh in his mind and his hand wrapped around the piece of bandana that remains his only memento of Harry. It’s hard to keep hold of things that matter when you’re permanently on the run, but Liam had tied that bandana around his wrist and never let go of it. Not once.

"Time to go," Louis says, popping his head around the corner. He looks more tired than Liam feels, and he’s not bothered to shave for too long, his beard almost down to his chest and his hair not far behind. His eyes are sharp still though, a survivor, Liam thinks. Like him. And they’ve both kept Niall safe through sheer force of will. Niall’s got the best chance of normality after this, Liam thinks. Niall will bounce back faster than either of them. If they can. But it’s worth it, Liam knows. And he knows Louis feels the same. Niall had to be protected at all costs.

Niall is the best of them. Always has been.

Liam gets to his feet, his body protesting like it’s finally shutting down after so many years and seasons of adrenaline at his fingertips. But he pushes through and wraps his arm around Niall and they set off down the road, following broken signs towards the city.

"Two years, three months," Louis says. He’s got the radio plastered to his ear as they walk, the speakers damaged enough that it only comes through in a whisper. "The virus hit two years ago."

Two years and three months since he last saw Harry. Since he last kissed him goodbye before they left for the airport, attempting to go home on a promo break. Two years and three months before they had to run for their lives and fight to live.

"I thought it was longer," Niall says. 

It’s long enough. Too long. 

Liam used to dream about finding Harry and Zayn somewhere on the road. Just running into them and being together again. Then they turned into nightmares where Liam would find them but they’d already turned. Nightmares that stopped him from sleeping until he’d almost died from tiredness and not paying attention. Now he sleeps dreamlessly and prays that if Harry and Zayn didn’t make it, at least they weren’t turned first. 

It takes them two more days to reach the city and there’s more of them. Crowds of strangers making the journey with them. They don’t talk to anyone, but they’re there, a silent majority finding strength in numbers. They’re greeted by military who send them to the makeshift hospital and Liam hopes they can finally cure Niall’s persistent cough and Louis can shower and shave and look like himself again.

He finds himself being pushed into his own shower and he almost weeps at the feel of hot water again. He’s handed new clothes and he feels a million times better already by the time he emerges.

"No one’s seen Harry or Zayn yet," Niall tells him when they’re reunited and given rice and clean water. It’s the first time he’s heard Harry’s name spoken out loud in years and he bows his head, swallowing back a dark, overpowering feeling of desolation.

"Yet," Louis says, his voice hard like he’s daring Liam to argue.

Liam’s got no fight left in him though. Not for this. Not for anything. So he nods and busies himself with his dinner and tries not to think about Harry and his wide smile or the way he used to press against Liam just to remind Liam that he was there. Like Liam ever forgot. Like Liam ever could forget.

Three more days they’re in their makeshift hospital and Liam wonders if they’ll ever see a friendly face again. A face they know. A face from before. 

Three days before they head outside to help with the clear up. Burning bodies. Clearing the streets. Helping newcomers. It keeps Liam busy enough that he can’t think about Harry. Not until he’s in bed at night, Niall tucked in front of him and Louis behind him because old habits die hard. Then he can think about Harry until he passes out with exhaustion. his hand curled into Niall’s shirt to anchor him to reality.

They keep going because what else is there to do? They clean and help and burn and eventually the city starts to look human again. People are back on the streets and cars start appearing. Shops start opening. No one has any money but trades happen and Liam can start to see an end to this all, a return to some sense of normality.

Three months of almost-normal pass before Liam glances up because Niall’s running towards him, arms waving. Liam’s hand immediately goes to his hip in instinct but there’s no knife there anymore. Of course there isn’t. There’s no danger. 

"C’mon!" Niall yells when he’s close enough and there’s a flush on Niall’s cheeks. A brightness to his eyes. A look Liam hasn’t seen in two years and six months. He drops his tools and runs. He runs faster than he’s run ever before. He overtakes Niall, not slowing down for once. Just this once. He runs straight into the makeshift hospital that looks more and more like a real hospital now and he runs into Zayn. Lean, skinny, beautiful Zayn. With hair almost halfway down his back in a ponytail. 

"Zayn," he breathes. He can say his name now. He’s here. He’s real. Liam hugs him too tight, but he can’t let go. He can’t open his eyes. He can just breathe.

"Liam," he hears in that same breathless, wonderful tone. "Louis and Niall went to go find you. You’re alright?"

"Yeah, we’re all alright," he says. He still can’t open his eyes. Harry. Where’s Harry?

"He’s in the shower," Zayn says and for a second Liam thinks he spoke out loud but he didn’t. He knows he didn’t.

"Love you," Liam mumbles because he does, he does and he’s grateful Zayn’s here and he wants to hold him close forever but Harry. 

"Go," Zayn tells him, pushing him gently away. "I’ll still be here later. Go."

Liam goes. He runs through the corridors and bursts into the shower to find Harry standing under the hot spray, long and lean and god, he still looks like a baby tarzan. Liam pushes the screen door open and steps in, under the spray. He’s fully clothed but he doesn’t carebecause his arms are wrapping around the boy he loves, the boy he’s feared dead for so long, and Harry’s hugging him back. Harry’s crying and he’s crying but he doesn’t care. 

Harry’s trying to kiss him and tell him that he loves him and how worried he’s been and Liam’s trying to do the same. His hands are running over Harry’s body, checking for marks and scars, learning what’s new. There’s no permanent damage though, Liam realises. Harry’s whole. Harry’s here. Harry’s his.

Eventually they have to get out and Harry laughs at Liam’s soaking wet clothes and boots and Liam’s never heard a more beautiful sound in his life. He’d been so scared he’d never hear it again. He pulls Harry in for a kiss, not caring that Harry’s naked and Liam’s clothes are sopping and heavy. He kisses Harry like he’s never going to let go.

"I can’t believe you’re here," Liam says, late at night in their own bedroom. It’s the first night he’s spent away from Niall and Louis in two years and six months, but Zayn’s with them. Zayn will protect them. 

"I can’t believe you’re here,” Harry echoes. 

It’ll take them a lifetime to figure it all out, Liam thinks as they settle down together, Liam curled around Harry’s back and holding him safe. Reassuring himself that Harry’s real. And it’ll be hard. But they’ve made it this far. Surely the worst has to be over. 

Now, maybe, they can heal.


	3. ziam: overhearing a wet dream

It’s not like they haven’t shared before. They shared all the time at the beginning, when money was tight and they hadn’t outsold stadiums or had a world tour. They’d even shared right back at the start, when they were still on X Factor and they’d moved out of the shared room together, unable to cope with the unrelenting pressure of living in each other’s pockets.

But Liam had never felt like that with Zayn. He’d moved out, but only when Zayn promised to come with him. And on each tour, they’d shared rooms until they’d earned enough to rent out entire floors for themselves and their crew and Liam had been forced to get used to spending time alone again, a luxury he hasn’t had, or wanted, in a long, long time.

Before Zayn, in fact.

So he can’t understand why Zayn’s shaking his head, looking slightly panicked as their new tour manager explains that there’s been a problem with a hotel booking that means everyone’s back to sharing for two nights.

"No way," he hears Zayn whisper, almost under his breath, making Liam frown.

"Oh, um, I guess I could share with Niall then," Liam says quietly, unable to mask the surprise in his voice.

"Sorry lads, everyone else has been paired up and everyone’s luggage has been sent up to your rooms," their new manager says. "It’s just for two nights, then it’ll be back to normal, yeah? Lemme know if you need anything."

Then it’s just the two of them left in the hotel lobby, staring anywhere but at each other as Liam tries not to feel hurt about Zayn’s refusal to share with him.

They move silently towards the elevator and make it all the way to their room with an awkward tension hanging between them. Liam’s desperate to ask Zayn what’s wrong, to find out what he’s done or how he can make it up to Zayn, but instead he rushes through unpacking before he’s out the door, calling over his shoulder that he’ll see Zayn later as he frantically texts the other lads for a place to hang out.

The show that night is awkward as hell but Liam doesn’t want to leave the stage because all that lies ahead of him is an even more awkward night in their room with Zayn, who’s barely looked at Liam all night.

So he’s not really surprised when Zayn heads straight for Louis and Harry’s room, leaving Liam to turn in early. He jumps in the shower and watches a bit of telly by himself, only turning in when he realises he’s been staring at Zayn’s empty bed more than he’s been following Cake Boss.

It’s surprisingly easy for him to fall asleep.

*

He’s woken by Zayn, which is surprising enough because Zayn doesn’t talk in his sleep. Or at least he hadn’t, Liam thinks sleepily as he shoves his head under his pillow and tries to focus on falling back asleep.

Until Zayn moans loudly enough that Liam wonders if he’s awake and jerking off. He can’t hear any telltale signs though, just the rustle of covers as if Zayn’s turning around in his bed.

There’s another moan, filthier than the last and Zayn’s voice breaks right at the end. Liam peeks out from under the pillow and he can see Zayn through the sliver of light shining through the curtains. His face is drawn and flushed and his hands are fisted around his sheets. He’s writhing around on the bed, and Liam flushes as Zayn’s hips jerk upwards off the bed.

Zayn’s murmuring something too low for Liam to hear and Liam flushes as he realises Zayn’s having a dirty dream.

He knows he should leave, or wake Zayn up perhaps, but he stays frozen in his bed, eyes locked on Zayn. With every whimper and moan that Zayn makes, Liam feels his own dick fattening up in his pyjama bottoms and he really, really wants to get a hand around himself but jerking off to Zayn while Zayn’s in the fucking room is a line Liam’s not sure he can cross.

Not that he hasn’t jerked off to Zayn before, of course, but it’s always been in the privacy of his own shower or his own room with a box of tissues and wanking shamefully to old videos of Zayn in interviews or on stage. He’s not proud of it, but it is what it is.

It’s only when Zayn lets out a low, desperate whine that makes Liam’s dick jerk hard that Liam gives in, cheeks red hot as he shoves his hand into his pants and starts pumping his own dick in long, hard strokes as Zayn’s face clenches and he rolls over to bury his face into his pillows.

Liam watches, enthralled as Zayn starts humping the mattress, his moans muffled by the pillows as he grinds his dick into the bed.

"Fuck," Liam whispers as he jerks himself harder, feeling his orgasm closing in with each thrust Zayn makes into the mattress.

He’s just about to come when Zayn lets out a loud gasp, his head coming up off the pillow as his eyes spring open and Liam feels his own heart stop in his chest.

"Liam," Zayn gasps before he starts to come, "Liam, fuck, Liam," and Liam feels himself fall over the ledge, Zayn’s name on his own lips as he spurts into his hand, coming so hard he blacks out for a moment.

When he comes to, Zayn’s sprawled against his bed, face turned towards Liam with a panicked look in his eyes.

"Zayn," Liam murmurs, his voice full of guilt and shame and disgust at himself. "Fuck, Zayn I’m so sorry."

He hears Zayn breathing shakily before he turns his face away. “Nothing to be sorry for. S’my problem.”

Liam frowns as he pulls his hand out of his pants and stares at the come coating his fingers. “I think I should definitely be sorry for jerking off to your wet dream, mate.” His voice is shaky but he can’t do anything about that, not when he’s just had the best orgasm of his life and he’s never felt worse about himself.

Zayn turns back to face him, and his gaze narrows in on Liam’s outstretched hand. “What?”

"I’m sorry," Liam repeats, a little more desperate this time. "I shouldn’t have been listening. I must have woken you or something. Fuck, Zayn, I’m so fucking sorry."

"Liam, you didn’t wake me," Zayn says, sounding puzzled. He’s still staring at the come on Liam’s hand and Liam doesn’t know what to do about it. He’s so fucking miserable and filthy and he’s still not sure he’d even do it all differently. "You said my name when you came," Zayn murmurs.

Liam’s face flames. “Sorry,” he mutters again.

Zayn lifts his covers and crawls out of bed. There’s a large wet stain against his pyjama bottoms but Zayn doesn’t seem all that concerned. He pads over to Liam’s bed and carefully encircles Liam’s wrist with his thumb and forefinger. He’s still staring at the drying come on Liam’s hand. “I didn’t want to share because I’ve been having these dreams, babe,” Zayn says quietly, so quietly that Liam almost doesn’t hear him. Then Zayn’s gaze finally lifts to Liam’s face. “About you. Wet dreams about you.”

"About me," Liam echoes shakily.

"About you," Zayn agrees. He searches Liam’s face, although what he’s looking for Liam has no idea. He must find it though because he starts to smile, and Liam tries to smile back except Zayn’s drawing Liam’s hand towards his mouth and then Zayn’s sucking on Liam’s fingers. Which are covered in Liam’s come.

He’s noisy, Liam realises faintly. Zayn’s sucking on Liam’s fingers, making them even wetter and fuck, Liam’s getting hard again as he watches his fingers disappearing into Zayn’s wet, warm mouth and Zayn’s swirling his tongue around them.

"Fuck," Liam whispers.

Zayn lets Liam’s now-clean fingers slip out of his mouth. “Yeah,” he whispers back,

"You should uh, get cleaned up," Liam says unsteadily. He catches Zayn’s frown and he throws back the covers, stumbling to his feet and grabbing at Zayn’s hand. "We could uh, shower. Together. If you like."

"Yeah," Zayn says croakily. His other hand is reaching for Liam’s hip, dragging him closer and closer until they’re breathing into each others’ mouths, lips brushing against each other in a ghost of a kiss. "Yeah. We should definitely do that."

Liam grins as he surges forward to catch Zayn’s lips in a proper, fierce kiss before he drags Zayn towards the bathroom.


	4. ziam: halloween as kids

Liam’s clutching his mum’s hand as he walks into nursery, his other hand gripping his pumpkin tub for sweets desperately hard. He’s wearing his pirate costume with the trousers that are too long for him so his mum had rolled up the pants legs, promising him that he still looked like a scary pirate.

He finds Zayn almost immediately, dressed as a bat which Liam thinks is super cool and he drops his mum’s hand, racing over to fall down next to Zayn and grin at him.

"Hey," Zayn says. His face softens and he reaches for Liam’s hand, closing his fist around Liam’s, a habit that Liam’s grown used to in the two months he’s known Zayn. "Cool outfit."

"Zayn, you’re a bat," Liam says in complete awe. "You’re like Batman!"

Zayn giggles and turns his face into Liam’s shoulder. “No I’m not,” he says but Liam can tell he’s lying.

"You are," Liam insists. He reaches out to stroke Zayn’s wings, his tiny fingers soft and careful as he handles them with the utmost care. "S’beautiful Zayn."

They huddle together while the teacher goes through their lessons and when it’s reading time, Zayn helps Liam with the harder words because Zayn’s really smart and Liam still has trouble with long words. And every now and again while Zayn’s scribbling on his paper, his tongue pressed against his teeth as he concentrates, Liam just stares at him in awe.

"You’re so smart," Liam mumbles as he puts a neat line through his misspelling and tries again. Zayn never has to cross anything out because he always gets it right, to Liam’s utter amazement.

"You’re smart too," Zayn insists with a frown. Liam giggles because he knows he’s not really, but Zayn’s his best mate and Zayn’s never wrong.

Liam does his best pirate impression during break and waves his plastic sword around while Zayn looks on wide-eyed and impressed. Liam giggles his way through the pirate noises that he learned from Nicola yesterday.

"You do it," Liam says, pressing the sword into Zayn’s hands and tearing off his eyepatch to hook it around Zayn’s head. Zayn tries a pirate accent that has Liam giggling into his hands and by the time Zayn’s jumping around and yelling about treasure, Liam’s on the floor and his tummy hurts from laughing too hard.

"You make a better pirate," Zayn decides when he hands the sword back and Liam tucks it into his waistband. Zayn’s hand slips into his and squeezes and they head for their favourite sleeping spot, right under the window where they plop themselves down and shove at each other gently until Liam’s on his back and Zayn’s tucked into his side. Liam’s trying to teach himself to stop sucking his thumb because he’s almost four now and only babies suck their thumbs, so he grabs Zayn’s hand and twines their fingers together while Zayn closes his eyes and huffs out a tired breath that sweeps over Liam’s skin where they’re so close. With a yawn, Liam closes his own eyes and shuffles a bit closer.

"You make the best Batman," Liam mumbles before he drops off to sleep. "The best Batman ever."


	5. ziam: time travel

"This can’t be real," Liam says slowly, staring around at the room he hasn’t seen in years. "I can’t really be here. It’s a dream, right?"

Except Zayn’s staring at him, and he’s a Zayn Liam hasn’t seen in years. A Zayn who belongs in Liam’s memories of Simon Cowell and feeling alone and arguing with Louis and the X Factor. God, he’s in the X Factor house and Zayn’s 17 years old while he, well, he’s 21. He’s just turned 21 and celebrated in Vegas, he’s just been in Vegas trying to distract fans from the shitstorm he’s just unwittingly released on twitter, unless it’s all been a dream. Oh god, has it been a dream?

A glance at the tattoos on his arm tell him it’s not. He’s somehow back here, in the X Factor house in 2010, and Zayn’s … well, Zayn looks curious more than anything.

"Hey," Liam says weakly. "Surprise?"

"Hi," Zayn says slowly, and his gaze is running up and down Liam’s body like he’s cataloging differences. Too many, Liam thinks. Far, far too many.

"I uh, I guess time travel works then," Liam says with a shaky laugh. "I uh, fuck. I can’t believe I’m back here."

"Where’ve you come from then?" Zayn asks. He’s sitting on the bed, on the bottom bunk of their old shared beds and Liam slides to the floor, resting back against the wall because he’s not sure his legs will hold out much longer.

"I’m uh, 21," Liam tells him. "Not sure that I, like, god am I not meant to tell you what happens then? All the movies say not to disturb the timelines and stuff. Shit."

"It’s alright, Liam," Zayn says softly, and if Liam closes his eyes, he can imagine it’s his Zayn, his 2014 Zayn trying to soothe him. "You don’t have to tell me anything."

"We’re best mates still," Liam blurts out. His cheeks flush but he keeps Zayn’s gaze. "We’ve stayed best mates. Always. And we’re like. We’re famous."

"So much for not saying anything then," Zayn teases, but it’s gentle. "You uh, you picked a funny time to drop in."

Which is when Liam looks around more carefully, taking in their room and Zayn’s clothes and the way Zayn looks all rumpled and soft, his hair a mess like someone’s … oh. Oh. Oh fuck.

"You kissed me," Liam says slowly. "This is where you kissed me."

"Yeah," Zayn says quietly. He looks shy and determined, all at once. "I did. And you kissed me back."

"I did," Liam says and he scoots over to the bed to sit next to him. "What was it like? You never said. After."

"Um," Zayn flushes hard and Liam sees his hands grip the duvet tightly. He reaches over, stroking Zayn’s skin until he loosens his grip and tangles their hands together. "Amazing. Perfect. We’re like, if we’re best mates still, then we’re together, right? In four years. We’re still together."

He sounds so hopeful, so excited that Liam can’t tell him the truth. Not now. He leans in, Zayn’s scent hitting him with all the memories he’d forgotten over the years, but he’s pulled right back to this moment when he’d been embarrassed and run away, and things had been so awkward between them for a few days. He leans in, and he kisses Zayn softly, remembering all of it.

When he pulls back, stunned, and sees Zayn smiling up at him so happily, he realises. God. He needs to get back to _his_ Zayn. He really fucked up. He fucked everything up. But maybe it’s not too late.

He really, really hopes it’s not too late for them.

*

He only spends two hours with Zayn in the past. Liam refuses to tell Younger Zayn anything else about the future, but he does curl up on the bed with him, listening to Zayn breathe next to him and keeping their legs tangled as close as he dares. He can’t risk anymore kissing and he tries not to worry about how broken-hearted this Zayn is going to be when his 17-year old self comes back and makes a complete mess of everything.

Which then makes him feel even worse, because he realises that Zayn knows. Zayn’s known for four years that Liam came back and all but lied to him. But would he remember? Or pass it off as a crazy dream? Zayn’s never once, in all these years, made a single mention of something as important as time travel.

Fuck, time travel is fucking confusing and his head hurts just thinking about it.

He’s almost half-asleep when he feels himself jolt and suddenly he’s back in his Vegas hotel room exactly as he’d left it. His first urge is to go find Zayn, to make him listen to Liam and to explain just how stupid he’s been. Because Zayn knows him better than anyone, and Zayn will understand.

His second urge is to crawl under the covers and pretend like the world’s disappeared because he’s fucked up and four years is too late. Four years is far, far too late. That young, 17 year old Zayn is gone, in the past, long forgotten, and Liam’s got no one to blame but himself.

He crawls under the covers and shoves his head under a pillow for good measure.

He’s still there when Paul pulls him out, unceremoniously dumping him on the floor.

"Time to go, popstar," Paul tells him with a grin.

With a sigh, Liam grabs all his things and shoves them into his suitcase, swearing loudly when he can’t zip it up. It takes some grunting and brute strength but he manages it eventually and heads downstairs, ducking into the first car that pulls up even though typically that’s the one Harry takes. He just can’t see Zayn right now. He can’t.

*

He’s being weird. He knows he’s being weird and he just can’t seem to stop himself. He’s alternating between staring at Zayn like a lovesick puppy and racing off whenever Zayn makes a move towards him.

The worst part is, Zayn just lets him.

He lets him, right up until the moment Liam finds himself being shoved into his hotel room after the show, Zayn pressed up behind him as the door shuts quietly behind them.

"It’s happened, hasn’t it." It’s not a question, but Liam nods anyway, his heart pounding in his chest as he turns slowly to find Zayn watching him carefully. "Weird, right?"

"Fucking crazy," Liam agrees slowly. He tries a smile but it fails miserably and his gaze drops to the floor. "Fuck, Zayn."

"Been waiting," Zayn interrupts, his voice slow and melodic. "Four years. It’s a long time to keep relieving the same two hours over and over again. Remembering the different expressions you had. Watching the tattoos I knew you were going to get appear on your skin. That’s when I realised it wasn’t just a figment of my imagination."

"Zayn," Liam whispers. "I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry."

"For what though," Zayn muses, and Liam feels himself being pushed gently back until he feels the wall behind him. Zayn steps closer, fitting neatly between Liam’s thighs and he groans helplessly. "Sorry for making me think we were going to be together all this time? Or sorry for lying? Sorry for messing me up so badly that it took me months to work it all out?"

"Oh god," Liam mutters, squeezing his eyes shut. "I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. For all of it. How are you even still mates with me?"

"Like I said, I figured it out," Zayn says, and Liam feels a hand on his cheek; soft and warm. Gentle. "I saw, Liam. The regret. The why you curled in on yourself. And you kissed me like it was all new, not like you’d been kissing me every day for four years. And I figured I’d just wait. Four years isn’t that long, babe. Not when you’ve been here every day."

Liam half-laughs and half sobs, leaning forward to bury his head into Zayn’s neck. “Are you kidding me? You just figured you’d wait for me to stop being so fucking stupid?”

"Yeah," Zayn says. "Actually. Pretty good plan, I reckon."

"You waited. For four years. Based on two hours with a time travelling me from the future," Liam says slowly.

Zayn shrugs. It’s careless and careful, all at once.

"You waited for me," Liam says again in wonder. He can feel himself swaying closer to Zayn, until he feels their lips brush together. He hears Zayn’s caught gasp and he smiles against Zayn’s lips. His hands slip into Zayn’s hair, messing it up as easily as he did four years ago as he kisses Zayn hard and desperate, four years older and wiser and more experienced, drawing gasps and whimpers from Zayn, who waited four years for him.

When he sinks to his knees, trembling hands making quick work of Zayn’s belt and tugging his jeans down, he hears a low, wrecked groan. “Four years,” Liam says, still in disbelief. “Four years, Zayn. For me.”

When he dips his head and opens his mouth, feeling Zayn’s dick slide in slowly, he moans helplessly.

"Of course I fucking did," he hears Zayn say. "Would have waited forever, you dick."

Liam’s eyes flutter closed and he breathes in, slow and sure.


	6. nophiam: wrecking sophia

The first time it happens, they’re all drunk and giggly and Niall won’t let Liam go and Liam doesn’t really want to let him go either. And Sophia fits herself so neatly between the two of them, reaching up to kiss Liam as she fits her tiny hand in Niall’s much larger one and bringing both their hands to Liam’s chest. And it’s not really a question, not when Niall presses a quick, hard kiss against his lips, and Liam kisses him back while Sophia tugs his jeans down and somehow it’s like a beautiful, choreographed dance that ends with them in a tangled heap, Sophia asleep on Liam’s chest as she curls herself around him, and he rests his hand on the base of her spine, and Niall tucked into his side, his steady breathing tickling his neck as Niall’s hand rests on his hip.

The second time it happens, there’s barely any alcohol at all and Liam discovers that he likes seeing Niall fucking his girlfriend, that he likes the way Niall fucks Sophia until she’s screaming, Liam’s hands around her waist to keep her grounded and Niall’s eyes on him the entire time, hot and heavy and with a promise that makes Liam shiver.

The third time it happens, Liam finds out what it’s like to have Niall fall apart underneath him. To make Niall cry out his name as he comes, breathless and panting, Sophia’s soft hands stroking Niall’s chest and kissing Liam’s name right out of his mouth. The third time it happens, none of them have been drinking at all and Liam wonders if they need to talk about it.

They don’t talk about it.

The fourth time it happens, Liam’s spent most of the night at the bar with Niall, their bodies brushing against each other, Liam’s fingers tangling with Niall’s under the table, Niall’s foot hooked around Liam’s as they watch Sophia on the dance floor.

"She’s gorgeous, mate," Niall says, and he’s close. Too close. Not close enough.

"Yeah, she is," Liam agrees, turning his head so that his lips can brush over Niall’s skin and he can pretend it’s an accident.

"Always perfectly made up," Niall says, his voice a bit deeper as his fingers brush over Liam’s waist, slipping under his shirt and finding warm skin. "Never see her with a hair out of place."

Liam wants to contribute to the conversation, but Niall’s drawing circles against his hip and he can’t seem to concentrate. His head drops onto Niall’s shoulder as his eyes track Sophia’s movements across the club, heading straight for them with that smile that lights her eyes and goes straight to Liam’s dick.

"Wonder what it’d take to ruin her a bit," Niall murmurs, and Liam reaches for Sophia’s hand, drawing her in for a lazy kiss. He buries his fingers in her hair and kisses her until she’s breathless and her hair looks beautifully mussed, like he’s left his little mark on her.

"Home?" she asks hopefully, not even reaching up to pat her hair back into place, and it’s less than two minutes before Liam’s got them in the car, Sophia straddling his lap as he kisses her until he’s so hard he can barely remember where they are. Not when Niall’s palming himself through his jeans next to him, and especially not when Sophia knocks his hand away and unzips him, tugging his cock free and stroking him while she kisses Liam and grinds her hips down over his achingly hard dick.

When they make it into his flat, stumbling and giggling, Sophia drops to her knees immediately, tugging Niall against the wall and swallowing him down. He’s happy to watch just now, sees the way Niall buries his hands in her hair and tugs until she’s deep throating him, her lips red and bruised, but her eyes wild as she gags on his dick. When Niall comes, it’s with a ragged cry and Sophia’s lips are smeared with Niall’s come. Liam pulls her up for a kiss, groaning when he tastes Niall on her and he unzips his jeans, pulling his cock free as he wraps her hand around him. He reaches under her skirt, his fingers slipping past her panties as he feels how wet she is. He can’t help the moan he makes as he slides his fingers inside, feeling the way she clenches around him like she’s trying to keep him locked inside her.

When he’s close, he feels another hand wrapping around his dick, Sophia’s hand slipping away as she comes apart in his arms.

He’s not exactly sure whether it’s Niall’s idea or his, or maybe both of them, but when he comes, it’s over her skirt and her top, Liam’s head thrown back against Niall’s shoulder as Niall mouths desperately at his neck.

When they finally fall into bed, Sophia’s hair looks a mess, her lipstick is smeared and her eyes are coated in smudged mascara. Her clothes are ruined and most of all, she looks absolutely fucking delighted by it all.

Liam carefully strips her, washing her face clean before he lays her in bed, smiling as she immediately curls herself around Niall and Niall presses a soft kiss against her cheek. Liam slides in behind her and hears her sigh of contentment, even as he reaches over for Niall’s hand and wonders how Niall might look, if Liam and Sophia ruined him next time.


	7. lourry: look at me, just breathe okay?

Louis thinks he might throw up, but his mum will probably kill him if he messes up his suit, minutes before she’s about to walk down the aisle. He’s nervous and his hands won’t stop trembling, even though they’re wrapped firmly around the sink basin as he very deliberately doesn’t lift his head to look at his reflection in the mirror.

He concentrates on his breathing, but it doesn’t really help. His heart is still racing and his skin feels clammy. His suit feels too tight, his tie feels like it’s choking him, and his mum is expecting him to collect her in five minutes to walk her down the aisle and he’s not sure he can do it.

A knock at the door has him swiping at his face, even before he hears him. “Lou? Are you alright? Your mum’s wondering where you are.”

"I’m fine, Harry," he says a little shortly. He scrubs his hand over his face and holds his breath, waiting for Harry to walk away.

He hears him clear his throat, before the handle moves, and fuck, he forgot to lock it. He’s got half a second to wipe his expression blank before Harry’s standing there, looking awkward and too big, filling the doorframe easily.

He tries to ignore the way Harry’s gaze sweeps over him, but ends up focusing on Harry’s hands and the way they flex and fist alternately at his sides.

God, this is the last thing he needs today.

"I’ll be there in a minute," he says, desperately hoping that it’ll make Harry disappear.

Of course it doesn’t though, because nothing ever goes the way he wants it to, and nothing about Harry especially ever goes the way he wants it to.

"Everything okay?" Harry asks slowly. He’s wearing that stupid hat and his shirt is practically undone, but Louis doesn’t say anything because that’s not what they do anymore. Louis doesn’t tease Harry over whatever dumb thing he’s wearing and Harry doesn’t laugh uncontrollably at Louis’ jokes and most of all, they don’t touch anymore. Harry doesn’t crawl into his bunk late at night, pressing urgent kisses against his lips like he’s desperate to taste Louis. Louis doesn’t run his hands all over Harry until he’s hard and pleading with Louis to get him off.

They don’t touch and they don’t really talk and Louis’ having a small panic attack in the bathroom on his mother’s wedding day and Harry’s staring at him and god, Louis really is going to throw up.

He turns, gripping the basin again as he drags in ragged breaths. Something’s wrong though because he feels light-headed, and when Harry’s hands tentatively grip his shoulders, he desperately wants to fall back against Harry, to rest against him and figure out how they fit together again, now that Harry’s taller and broader and so, so different from how he used to be, when they fit together so perfectly.

But he can’t. Of course he can’t because they don’t do that anymore.

"Don’t," he whispers, barely audible but Harry drops his hands like he’s been burned.

They’ve both been fucking burned.

"I shouldn’t have come," Harry murmurs. He sounds sad and small, and god Louis wants to turn around, but he can’t.

"Mum wanted you here," Louis says. They haven’t spoken about it, but he’s sure his mum thinks that if they’re both here, surrounded by romance and all that crap, that somehow everything will magically heal between them and they’ll fall back into each other. But fairytales aren’t for him, Louis knows. He doesn’t deserve them, and he’d been stupid to believe that he could, once upon a time.

So fucking stupid.

"Your mum is waiting," Harry says, and he sounds reluctant.

But Louis can’t ruin his mum’s big day. He refuses to. No matter what else he fucks up, his mum’s wedding day isn’t going to be one of them, so he has to go.

Except he can’t seem to move, and he’s having trouble breathing

"Just breathe," Harry says, suddenly right in front of him, and all Louis can do is look up into his green eyes and stare. "Look at me. Just breathe, okay?"

Louis takes a breath as Harry smiles at him encouragingly, and he breathes out. When did Harry become the protective one, he wonders? He breathes in again, unable to look away, even when Harry’s gaze drops helplessly to Louis’ parted lips.

"Just breathe," Harry whispers. "It’s going to be alright."

The thing is, he’s knows it’s not going to be alright. It hasn’t been alright all year, since the last time he pressed his lips against Harry’s, a goodbye kiss he hadn’t known he was giving.

"I’ve got to walk my mum down the aisle," he murmurs, vaguely aware that Harry’s running his hands up and down his arms. "She’s getting married."

Harry’s gaze moves away, fixing on the floor to his right, and Louis feels sick.

"Always thought we’d get back together," Harry says, almost conversationally. Louis trembles, because yeah, he’d thought so too. He hadn’t known they’d stop talking completely, drifting further and further away until they’re almost strangers. Almost.

"I’ve got to go," Louis says almost desperately. "I’ve got to go give her away."

Harry nods, and Louis slips past him, barely breathing as their bodies slide against each other because it’s almost overwhelming, how easy it would be to trail his hand over Harry’s belly the way he knows Harry likes. How easy it would be to press his lips against Harry’s neck and bite down hard enough to mark, like he used to whenever he was feeling a bit territorial.

But he doesn’t, of course. He walks his mum down the aisle and smiles and does everything he’s expected to do. And if his gaze drifts towards Harry, sitting four rows back, when his mum repeats her vows, then maybe it’s okay to have this one thing just for himself because Harry’s staring right back at him.

And he remembers to keep breathing.


	8. ziam: blind date

Liam really, really doesn’t want to go on this blind date, which is why he’s currently standing in his bedroom, being dressed by Louis and Niall who are both insistent that this boy they’re setting him up with is perfect for him.

"Guys, c’mon," Liam protests as Niall slips off the red flannel shirt and Louis swoops in with blue and white striped shirt.

"Better," Louis mumbles and Niall nods his head in apparent agreement. "Do your hair, Payno."

"Do what to my hair?" Liam asks in exasperation. A quick glance in the mirror reveals that his hair looks exactly the same as it always does, so he’s not sure what Louis’ expecting him to do with it.

"Make it look sexier," Niall says, which apparently means Niall gets to dig his fingers into Liam’s hair and pull, which makes him wince and swat Niall away.

"Better," Louis says again, and it seems like they might be done on his ‘transformation’ or whatever because Louis and Niall high-five and turn Liam towards the door. "C’mon. Time for your date."

"But I don’t want to go on this date," Liam says slowly, with emphasis. He finds himself at his front door anyway, and Niall’s kneeling in front of him which is so not okay, trying to force his Converse on. With a sigh, Liam lifts one foot, using Louis for balance, and then the other. "I’ve met someone."

"Online," Louis scoffs, as if no one could meet their future life partner on the internet. Liam’s read the stats though, and they’re pretty good. And Malick_You21 is both incredibly hot, the hottest person Liam’s ever seen, ever, and okay, maybe he’s still a little dubious that Malick_You21 could possibly be a real person (he’s seen episodes of Catfish, okay? A lot of episodes) and that even if he was, he couldn’t possibly be interested in someone as plain and dull as Liam, or Payno93. But he’s never laughed as much as he has when he and Malick_You21 have exchanged emails, or found someone who loves comic books as much as he does.

He really, _really_ hopes he’s not being Catfished.

But he still finds himself on the London underground, Louis’ hand wrapped firmly around one wrist and Niall’s hand wrapped tightly around the other. “Guys, I don’t want to meet this guy,” Liam tries once more, to no avail. “I’m kind of taken.”

"If you don’t know your boyfriend’s real name, you don’t have an actual boyfriend," Louis says, and well, he has a point, Liam thinks with a sigh. But he knows this thing he’s started with Malick_You21, this relationship they’ve been building on since the moment Liam clicked on his profile a month ago and Malick_You21 messaged him back, he knows that it could really be something.

"Maybe you could meet this guy and then Louis will stop trying to set you up," Niall murmurs.

And Liam wants to. But right now, Malick_You21 is almost perfect through the computer screen and he doesn’t want to risk ruining that by meeting the guy and realising he’s a complete dick, or that he’s a liar, or that he’s just messing with Liam for a laugh.

All legitimate concerns he’s had over the past four weeks.

"You’ll love Zayn anyway," Louis continues. "He’s Harry’s mate from work. Gorgeous, apparently. Bit quiet. Harry thinks he’s hilarious, and very deep, Harry reckons."

Liam doesn’t want to doubt Harry’s judgement, but honestly. Harry thinks the postman’s deep because he once quoted Palahniuk. Or Harry thinks he did, anyway. None of them were sure, even after Harry had told the story three times.

"Doesn’t sound perfect for me at all," Liam mumbles, on the off-chance that this Zayn really is deep and gorgeous and hilarious. Liam’s none of those things.

He gets a sharp elbow in the side of the ribs from Niall and a scowl from Louis. “Shut up,” Louis says with a sniff.

Liam figures it’s best to just try and get through this terrible blind date as quickly and painlessly as possible before heading home and typing out a long, rambling, probably misspelled email to Malick_You21 and see if he wants to actually meet Liam.

His palms start to sweat just at the thought, which is about the time that they reach their stop and the boys lead him carefully off the tube and up several escalators to the top. They swipe their Oyster cards and Liam finds himself being dragged into a nice-looking bar with dimmed lighting and jazzy music.

Oh god this guy is going to hate him.

He sees Harry straightaway, since Harry is hard to miss with his long, curly hair piled up in a bun that Louis ridicules him for but Liam secretly thinks is cute. He’s sitting at a table with a guy sat opposite. His date.

Oh god.

Liam feels a bit sick, but he’s pretty sure he could overpower Louis and Niall and get the hell out of there before he’s utterly embarrassed by this deep, hilarious, gorgeous stranger. But he finds himself being pulled across the bar by two very excited, and surprisingly strong mates who he will probably have to disown after this.

Except when the boy stands up and turns around, it’s him. It’s Malick_You21 staring back at him, looking as surprised as Liam does.

"Zayn, this is Liam," Harry says and he sounds ridiculously hyped up. "Liam, this is my coworker Zayn."

Liam wants to die of humiliation. He can feel his cheeks flushing and he has to curl his hands into fists to stop them trembling. Oh god, Zayn is Malick_You21 and Liam was right. He’s not interested in Liam at all because he’s here on this blind date. Liam came by force, but Zayn …

"Hi," Zayn says, and Liam blinks because he realises it’s been silent for an awkwardly long time.

Liam shakes the offered hand, trying not to notice how small Zayn’s hand feels in his or how warm and gentle the handshake is.

"Hi," he says inanely. "I uh, my mates made me come."

Zayn’s eyes widen slightly at that, and his very solemn, very serious face breaks into a small smile. “Yeah?”

Liam nods helplessly because honestly, the picture didn’t do Zayn justice. He’s _gorgeous_.

"Harry made me come too," Zayn says slowly, and his accent is amazing. Bradford, Liam thinks vaguely. "I told him that I was uh, kind of seeing someone though."

"That’s weird, Liam said the same thing," Niall says. Liam can hear the frown in his voice.

"Really?" Zayn says, and this time the smile widens and sticks.

Liam’s breath catches and he knows he’s grinning stupidly at Zayn but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Guy I met online. Goes by the name of Malick_You21.”

Niall starts laughing because honestly, it is a terrible pun, but Liam sees Harry behind Zayn, frowning. “Malik,” he murmurs. “That’s Zayn’s surname.”

"Payno93," Zayn murmurs.

"Liam Payne," Liam says.

"Incredible," Zayn murmurs, and he moves closer.

Liam feels Zayn’s hand brush against his. “You guys can go, you know. I think we’ll be alright.”

Niall ends up dragging Louis and Harry towards the bar as they try to piece it all together while Liam takes a seat next to where Zayn had been sitting before.

They end up making out in one of the stalls in the loos, because Harry had been staring at them in the bar and it was creeping both of them out.

Liam’s still not entirely convinced that he’s not being Catfished, but Zayn’s hand in his boxers convinces him that he doesn’t care.

And when he wakes up in the morning, naked and with a surprisingly heavy Zayn, also naked, asleep on his shoulder, a possessive hand splayed across his chest, Liam thinks he might try and convince Louis to sign up for online dating, because he’s got a feeling that he and Zayn are going to be one of those good internet dating statistics.

"Morning," Zayn mumbles in a soft, sleepy voice.

A really, _really_ good statistic.


	9. ziam: kidfic

A piercing scream cuts through what was blissful silence.

Liam groans as he rolls over, face buried in his pillow as he kicks Zayn gently. “Your turn.”

"S’your son," Zayn mumbles, his lips barely moving. 

"S’your son too," Liam grumbles, curling up and wrapping the lovely warm duvet around him. Zayn’s got a hand curled around Liam’s waist, his palm resting on Liam’s hip and he’s just so comfortable. "And it’s still your turn."

"I’m disowning him," Zayn mutters but Liam can feel him moving, shuffling around like he’s working his way up to getting out of bed. He’s getting better, Liam thinks with a smile hidden by his pillow.

Zayn’s body covers his for a second, warmth stealing through his body as Zayn kisses him, quick and firm before he’s gone, leaving Liam slightly frustrated and definitely awake, which was of course Zayn’s intention, Liam knows. He yawns, rubbing at his eyes as he climbs out of bed, his feet hitting the cold floor before he stands up and pads into the kitchen. He hums a mostly forgotten tune as he heats the milk and flicks on the kettle. A glance at the clock tells him that it’s 3am. Right on schedule then, Liam thinks with a grin.

He makes two mugs of cocoa because even though Zayn teases him each time, Zayn’s mug is always empty in the morning. He stumbles back into the bedroom, where Zayn’s cradling Noah to his bare chest, the baby quiet now and blinking sleepily up at Zayn, who’s cooing gently back at him. 

As always, Liam’s breath catches and he has to fight back the lump in his throat. “Here you go daddy,” he says thickly, putting Zayn’s mug on the nightstand and handing him the bottle before he settles himself down next to Zayn, curling into his body when Zayn’s arm slides around him. “Still want to disown him then?”

"Maybe not tonight," Zayn concedes softly, his fingers digging into Liam’s side gently and making him hum in contentment. "Maybe we’ll keep him one more night."


	10. ziam: phone sex

Zayn’s half asleep when his phone buzzes. He’s tempted to ignore it (he’s always tempted to ignore it) but he catches Liam’s face flashing up on his screen.

“‘lo?” he mumbles, closing his eyes as he flops onto his back. “What’s up?”

"Hey," Liam says softly. "Not much. Just wanted to hear your voice for a minute."

Zayn frowns, opening his eyes to stare up at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Everything okay?” he asks carefully.

"Yeah, yeah I’m fine," Liam says in that too bright tone that tells Zayn that everything’s not okay. "Just missed you."

And it’s still a bit weird, this thing they do. Where they hook up on tour and go home to their girlfriends and act like they’re just best mates when they’re anything but. When they’ve progressed to a few snogs and ill-timed dry humping to handjobs and blowjobs and two weeks ago, Liam was so worked up that he begged Zayn to fuck him.

Zayn couldn’t say no.

And then everything had been awkward and they’d gone home for a few days on a break and Zayn had spent every single moment away from Liam totally miserable.

"Missed you too," Zayn says quietly. He’s certain this isn’t a good idea, whatever it is, but he’s well past the point of being sensible or cautious when it comes to Liam.

"Yeah?" Liam asks, like he doesn’t quite believe him.

It hurts. “Of course,” he mutters, because he’s never lied to Liam before. He lies to everyone else in his life, but not Liam. “Miss you all the time.”

He thinks he hears Liam sigh but it’s too faint for him to be sure.

"Are you at home?" Liam asks.

"Yeah, just in my room," Zayn answers, rubbing a hand over his face. "Everyone’s gone to bed. You?"

"Yeah, I’m in bed," and well, Liam’s voice drops a few octaves. His mind goes immediately to Liam, flushed and sweaty, staring up at Zayn as he’s spread wide over clean, white sheets, silently begging Zayn for something.

He’s hard before the image disappears and he remembers he’s back in his room, miles away from Liam, with his girlfriend about to arrive in about ten hours.

"Yeah?" Zayn’s own voice has deepened, a rougher edge to his words that he knows Liam will recognise.

"God Zayn, I really fucking miss you," Liam groans and Zayn knows, he just knows that Liam’s got a hand on himself. It makes him feel less shitty when he shoves his joggers down and sighs in relief when he gets a hand around himself. “I know everything’s fucked up but I really needed to talk to you. Hear your voice.”

"Glad you did," Zayn says as he slowly strokes himself. "God Liam, are you as hard as I am?"

There’s an odd noise before he hears Liam let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”

"Are you stroking yourself, babe?" Zayn asks, already picturing it as Liam breathes out a yes. He groans, physically pained by the thought of Liam wanking off just to his voice. “Getting yourself off?”

"Your voice, Zayn," is all Liam says but Zayn gets it. He’s the same. God, he’s the same.

"Can’t wait to see you on Saturday," Zayn says as his hand speeds up at the thought. "I’m gonna make you come so hard when I can get my hands on you, yeah?"

"Yeeeeah," Liam says breathily, drawing the word out weakly. "Can we, uh, do what we did last time?"

Zayn nearly comes right then and there, that image of Liam spread out on the hotel bed appearing again until it’s all he can think about. All he can focus on. “Yeah,” he mutters, his hand jerking hard as he’s close. So fucking close. “Yeah, we’re gonna do that all the fucking time, Liam. You looked so good, lying there while I fucked you.”

"God it was amazing Zayn," Liam says quickly, like he’s just as close as Zayn is. "I didn’t realise."

And Zayn knows what he means. He’s never really thought about fucking boys before, or he hadn’t until Liam.

He knows he’s a bastard and everything’s going to go to shit, but right now Liam’s talking to him about letting Zayn fuck him again, letting Zayn make him tremble and bite his lip and plead for Zayn to fuck him, and as usual, all Zayn can think about is Liam.

He gives his dick a sharp tug and he comes, whining down the phone as he coats his fist, messy and so fucking good.

As he drifts back from his orgasm, he hears Liam coming, a short, sharp cry that’s so fucking familiar and beautiful that Zayn feels his dick twitch like he’s been conditioned to Liam’s orgasms.

Neither of them speak for a while and Zayn just listens to Liam breathing, his heart still pounding in his chest as he reaches for a tissue to clean his hand.

"I’ll see you on Saturday," Liam says eventually, like he’s reluctant to hang up.

"Can’t wait," Zayn says softly. "Goodnight, Liam."

"Night, Zayn," Liam whispers, and then he’s gone.

Zayn curls up on his side, pushing his phone away like it’s an accessory to his double life. He can’t make himself regret Liam, but he knows they can’t go on like this. Not for much longer.

When his phone flashes and he sees Liam’s name, he picks it up.

 _I broke up with Sophia_ is all it says.

He knows what he’s got to do. He knows what he wants.

Most of all, he knows it’s worth risking everything.


	11. niam: pretending to be married

Liam had booked the hotel ages ago. Months ago. Back when he and Sophia, well, when they’d been together. He’d booked it and booked the honeymoon suite and he’d had this plan to propose, out in the Devonshire countryside, away from London and the constant demands for his attention, away from the crowds, away from the expensive choices he usually made without even really thinking about it. He’d wanted the proposal to be different. Special. Something just for the two of them. He’d booked the tiny B&B on Harry’s recommendation, who swore it was run by a sweet older couple and Harry hadn’t been bothered there once. Liam thought it was perfect.

He hadn’t expected them to break up.

So here he was, confirmation email in hand, unable to pick up the phone and explain that he wouldn’t be coming after all. That’s when Niall had walked in, sweaty and tired and plonking himself down in front of Liam. He’d asked Liam what was wrong in that soft voice he had for Liam now, since the breakup. It’d been four months and Liam was mostly okay, but it was just things like this, little reminders, that caught him unawares and made him remember the good times.

He’d told Niall in halting, awkward sentences. Niall had given him a look before swiping the confirmation and scanning over it.

"Sounds like fun. Let’s go," Niall had said simply, and that was that. On a long weekend in the middle of tour, they’d jumped in a car and headed down to Devon together, Niall teasing Liam about their romantic weekend break away.

When they checked in, Liam saw the look on the woman’s face as she glanced between them, frowning as she clearly realised they were staying in the honeymoon suite. Miserable, Liam was about to explain about his original booking when Niall’s arm slid around his shoulders.

"We just got married," Niall said easily, and Liam had leaned into him in gratitude.

The woman’s face had brightened and she’d congratulated them before showing them to their room. Champagne and roses were on the side and it really was romantic. When they were on their own, Niall had opened up the champagne and poured two glasses, sticking a rose between his teeth to make Liam giggle. They’d got pissed as fuck and ordered room service, passing out together around midnight.

In the morning during breakfast, the woman had asked them about their wedding. Niall had launched into some story about it just being the two of them in their local town hall, cheap and cheerful and romantic as anything. All they wanted, he explained in a conspiratorial whisper, was to have time for just the two of them.

Liam thought it sounded pretty nice, actually.

They spent the day walking, stopping at pubs along the way and just talking. After Niall’s third pint, he’d insisted they hold hands, being newlyweds and all and Liam hadn’t been able to protest. He liked holding hands. He liked being someone’s boyfriend. And being someone’s husband sounded pretty fucking perfect. In his slightly squiffy state, he’d indulged Niall and played the perfect gentleman, paying for Niall’s drinks and lunch, helping him over stiles and generally making them both giggle until they stumbled back to the B&B, drunk and happier than Liam can remember being in ages. 

He’s not even surprised when Niall kisses him in the lobby. They are newlyweds after all, he reasons. And when he makes a little noise in the back of his throat and Niall’s hands tighten around his hips, he wriggles a bit closer and it’s nice.

They make it upstairs, still giggling and kissing and Niall’s hands have slipped down his trousers and Liam’s messed up Niall’s hair. But they’re still kissing, because they’re newlyweds and all, and before Liam realises it, Niall’s got his trousers down and is on his knees, stroking Liam carefully, with a simple "Yeah?" and Liam’s nodding, already hard and needy and when it’s over, he jerks Niall off and they’re sweaty and pissed and Liam thinks it’s the best weekend ever.

In the morning, Liam wakes up feeling a bit awkward and a bit horrified about taking advantage of Niall, but Niall just wakes up and presses a lazy kiss to Liam’s mouth and lets his hand wander down Liam’s body and they’re definitely not drunk now but he still comes apart so easily for Niall. They don’t talk about it but back on tour, they sneak away for time alone, for kisses and handjobs and blowjobs and Liam maybe wants Niall to be his boyfriend but he doesn’t know how to ask, doesn’t want to scare Niall away.

Until Harry makes some lazy joke about them being boyfriends (because they’re not subtle at all and Liam’s pretty sure they’ve all heard Niall come in his bunk more than once because Niall’s pretty fucking loud in bed) and Niall just shrugs and kisses Liam. So maybe he doesn’t have to ask after all. Maybe he’s never had to ask, not with Niall. It just is.


	12. ziam: locked in an elevator

When the elevator jolts to a sudden stop, there’s a hilarious moment when Liam looks up and Zayn looks up and they just stare at each other in utter horror.

"Did the lift just …" Zayn trails off because yes, the elevator has just broken down with them in it. 

Liam’s the first to move, reaching out to press the button for help. He explains, pretty calmly in Zayn’s opinion, that they’re stuck in the hotel lift and the woman says someone is coming to fix it immediately, sounding utterly bored and unconcerned that two of the hotel’s guests are stuck. In a lift. When they have a promo they’re meant to be heading to right now.

Of course their phones have no signal and eventually Zayn sinks to the floor, his elbows resting on his knees as he rests his head back against the cool steel of the elevator.

After a second, Liam flops down next to him, his head resting on Zayn’s shoulder. 

"Well this sucks," Liam says inanely. Zayn couldn’t agree more.

When twenty minutes passes and there’s no movement or sound or anything, Liam starts humming random songs. Sometimes Zayn joins in, but mostly he just enjoys listening to Liam messing around with his vocals. After forty minutes of being trapped inside the lift, it’s getting pretty hot and they both start removing layers - Liam takes off his hoodie and Zayn takes off his jumper. They both kick off their boots and socks and Liam takes off his shirt. 

Zayn, as always, tries not to notice Liam’s smooth, warm skin or his lovely chest or toned abs. It’s hard though when they’re facing each other, legs tangled in the middle and Liam keeps fidgeting because he’s the absolute worst at staying still.

"We could play a game," Liam says finally.

"Like what?" Zayn asks, closing his eyes because Liam keeps licking his lips and it’s driving him crazy. Being trapped and half-naked and seeing that faint sheen of sweat on Liam’s skin is bad enough. He hardly needs the visual of Liam’s red, spit-slicked lips to taunt him too.

"Can’t really do truth or dare, so just like, truth?" Liam offers weakly. 

"Yeah alright," Zayn murmurs. It sounds easy enough, they know most of each other’s secrets anyway. Except for Zayn’s most important secret, of course.

Liam shifts, to Zayn’s surprise, slotting himself between Zayn’s thighs so his back is resting against Zayn’s chest, his arms hooked around Zayn’s knees and leaving Zayn to fight a losing battle to not duck his head down and lick Liam’s collarbone. 

"What’s the filthiest thing you’ve ever done?" Liam asks, and Zayn freezes. "Like, in bed?"

Zayn’s having trouble breathing because as close as they are, well, they’ve never really talked about that before.

"I uh, had a girlfriend who used to like, finger me," Zayn says in a rush, his face flaming. Liam’s nodding though, like it’s completely normal. "So what’s like, your favourite wank material then?"

Zayn’s certain he’s not imagining the flush creeping up Liam’s neck, so he slides his hands down Liam’s chest and hugs him a bit closer even as he wonders if Liam’s going to answer. “I have this fantasy,” Liam says slowly, his hands curling round to cover Zayn’s on his chest. “Of like, someone being on their knees for me. Lips stretched around my dick.”

"Sounds pretty tame," Zayn murmurs, even as he’s fighting a smile at how normal Liam’s favourite fantasy is.

"Uh, it’s not, like, a girl though?" Liam all but whispers, and oh. Zayn’s hands jerk under Liam’s and his head feels a bit fuzzy. He hopes it’s the heat. “Have you ever like, fantasised about it? Being with like, a guy?”

Zayn knows he should lie. He absolutely, 100% knows without a doubt that he should lie.

"Yeah," he sighs, because he’s an idiot.

Liam’s too silent, Zayn thinks. He’s still and silent and that’s not really Liam at all. “Your turn,” he finally says quietly.

Zayn doesn’t know what to ask. He’s still trying to get his head around Liam wanking to the idea of being sucking off by boys.

"I uh, fuck, Liam," Zayn murmurs. He leans his chin down on Liam’s shoulder and presses his cheek against Liam’s. "Do you like boys? Is that what you’re saying?"

"Sometimes," Liam admits, his voice sounding a little shaky.

It’s the trembling that makes him move. Feeling Liam’s strong, solid body trembling in his arms has him helplessly turning his head and pressing a quick, barely-there kiss against the corner of Liam’s mouth.

His heart is racing and he has to close his eyes because he’s just pretty much kissed his best friend, after Liam’s just shared a fucking huge part of himself. 

"Liam," Zayn says weakly when Liam doesn’t move, seemingly frozen.

"Did you …" Liam trails off, his voice husky as he turns his head and they stare at each other, their eyes bright and arms still wrapped around each other.

Liam’s gaze drops to Zayn’s mouth and Zayn can feel his heart stutter in his chest as he watches Liam lick his lips again and he wonders if Liam has any idea of what that does to him. Whether Liam knows he’s inviting Zayn back in.

There’s a loud bang and the elevator jerks into movement, sending them scrambling to their feet, flushed and refusing to look up.

"Alright lads?" Paul asks when the doors open, Harry, Louis and Niall trying to peer over Paul’s broad shoulders to make sure they’re okay.

"Yeah, fine," Zayn murmurs. At least, he hopes they are.

Liam ends up between Harry and Niall in the car, both of them wrapped around him like they’re making sure he’s okay. It’s easy to just focus on them, to laugh and tease and be teased, and he lets them occupy him until they step out and head into the studios where they’re rushed through make up touch ups and hair tweaking before they’re being fitted for mikes and pushed onto another sofa. He’s on the end, Niall between him and Zayn and he doesn’t know whether to be grateful or annoyed. 

He didn’t imagine that kiss. He knows he didn’t. He’d been half out of his mind, but Zayn definitely kissed him.

Luckily Harry and Niall carry most of the interview because Liam’s barely concentrating, his mind back in the elevator. There’s an odd sort of tension that’s settled over the group and he knows it’s his fault and that’s what forces his concentration back on the interview, jumping in to save Harry from answering yet another question about the tolls of travelling on their personal lives.

All he wants to do is get Zayn alone to ask him what that kiss meant, but they’re stuck doing interviews for three hours and then they’re piling back into the car to go back to the hotel. Liam turns to drag Zayn up to his room but he’s already disappearing, Louis tucked into his side as Zayn’s pulling out his cigarettes, and it’s the last Liam sees of him for the evening, much to his annoyance. 

All he can think about is that half-kiss, that ghost of Zayn’s lips across his, and the more he thinks about it, the more he’s convinced that it didn’t mean what he hoped it meant. That Zayn was being a good mate, like usual.

He goes to bed miserable and aching, because for a minute he’d thought he could actually have everything he’d been too scared to ask for. That he could have everything he’d wanted since he was 16. Since he’d met Zayn and fallen head over heels for his best mate. 

Liam’s still awake when there’s a soft knock at his door. He pads across the room, running a rough hand through his tousled hair and is completely unsurprised to find an equally tired, confused-looking Zayn staring back at him.

"Did I wake you?" Zayn asks, his voice rough and his accent thicker than usual. Liam shakes his head and reaches out to grab Zayn’s hand, not really thinking as he pulls Zayn inside and shuts the door, tugging Zayn over to the bed and helping him undress before he’s tumbling into bed, Zayn falling softly next to him and looking effortlessly beautiful, as always.

"That dream you had," Zayn says, his hand resting on Liam’s bare hip, his thumb brushing soothing strokes against his skin. "I might have had it too."

"Yeah?" Liam’s throat is too dry and Zayn’s too close.

"Except I was the one on my knees." His voice is trembling and Liam moves without thinking, his finger tracing Zayn’s jawline before he cups Zayn’s cheek. 

"For me?" Liam asks, his heart pounding as he sees the answer in Zayn’s eyes before his lips even move.

"Yeah. For you," Zayn confirms softly. "Always for you."

"Fuck," is all Liam can think to say before he leans in and kisses Zayn square on the mouth, fierce and dry. 

"Fuck," Zayn repeats when they pull back, their heads resting together and Zayn’s hands dragging Liam over him until Liam’s pinning Zayn down into the mattress.

Liam buries his head into Zayn’s neck and just breathes. “Me too,” he says. “It’s always you.”


	13. lirry: april fools

Liam’s pretty certain he went to bed alone, but he’s currently got an armful of someone and well, he’s hot and his arm is cramping painfully. He rolls carefully, slipping his arm free as Harry flops over onto his back, his hands reaching for Liam even in his sleep. It makes him smile, even though he probably shouldn’t and he really needs to talk to his bandmates about boundaries and not sneaking into his bed whenever they’re feeling lonely or whatever. Harry’s always been the worst, sneaking into anyone’s bed when he gets a bit homesick but lately he’s been in Liam’s bunk more than not.

“Harry,” Liam whispers, grinning when Harry lifts his hand and swats Liam away. “Harry, c’mon. You’ve got to stop crawling into my bed in the middle of the night.”

“Who else’s bed would I crawl into?” Harry mumbles, turning around and flinging his arm around Liam, dragging him down into a cuddle. Harry can be surprisingly strong when he wants to be and sometimes Liam likes to let himself be manhandled a little.

“Louis’ or Niall’s or Zayn’s?” Liam says, amused. They’ve all woken up to find Harry sprawled across them, more times than they’d care to count.

“Why would I crawl into their beds when I have a perfectly good boyfriend right here?” Harry asks, sounding confused.

Liam blinks, certain he’s misheard. “What?”

“Stop talking and kiss me good morning if you’re not going to let me sleep,” Harry huffs, finally opening his eyes and zeroing in on Liam’s mouth.

Liam is pretty sure his mouth is hanging open in shock.

Harry rolls his eyes and wraps his hands around the back of Liam’s neck, tugging him in and Liam falls pretty easily, since he’s completely lost all sense of balance and order since Harry referred to him as his boyfriend and demanded a kiss.

When Harry’s lips meet his, Liam wonders if maybe he’s still dreaming. Maybe he’s still fast asleep and this is some crazy, weird dream that he’ll wake up from any second.

Any second, really.

Except he doesn’t and Harry’s kissing him and Liam has no fucking clue what’s going on, so he does the only thing he can think of and kisses Harry back.

“Mmm,” Harry mumbles before his tongue presses against Liam’s lips. Surprised, Liam’s mouth opens and Harry’s properly kissing him, with tongues and everything and Liam is so totally lost right now. “Alright babe?”

“Harry,” Liam tries, but Harry’s kissing him again and his head is getting a little foggy, especially as Harry’s hands are sliding down his back and across his hips, his fingers tickling Liam’s tummy for a second before they drift lower. Liam rears back as Harry’s hand rubs against his crotch, eyes wide as he pants and stares at Harry in shock.

“What’s wrong, Li?” Harry asks, confused as his hand pauses, still pressed against Liam who is embarrassingly, horribly hard.

“Harry what are you doing?” Liam asks shakily, wondering why Harry looks confused when Liam’s woken up to find Harry calling him his boyfriend and touching him like it’s completely normal.

“Trying to give my boyfriend a morning handjob,” Harry says, his voice turning sulky. “Except he doesn’t seem to be very grateful.” He shifts his hand and Liam feels weirdly bereft. “You could have just said.”

“Harry, we’re not boyfriends,” Liam whispers. Harry just stares at him as Liam starts to get even more worried. Maybe Harry’s hit his head or something, he thinks desperately.

“Li, what’s wrong with you this morning?” Harry says, sounding a bit annoyed. He presses his lips against Liam’s temple before he climbs out of the bunk and looks down at him. “Gonna go shower. Don’t suppose you wanna join me.” Liam just stares up at him and Harry sighs. “Fine. Come find me when you’re being less weird, okay?”

Liam gives himself five minutes to replay whatever the hell he’d woken up to and he’s still confused. He gets up and heads for the kitchen, finding Niall and Zayn eating in silence.

“Morning,” he says, half-expecting them to be as weird as Harry but they just glance up and nod before looking back into their cereal bowls. “So uh, Harry’s being weird this morning.”

“Just suck him off, that usually sorts him out,” Niall says distractedly as he swipes his phone screen.

And …. What? Liam’s face must look horribly blank because Zayn starts laughing. “C’mon Li, we know that’s your usual technique. We do sleep in the same room, you idiot. It’s alright. We’re used to it now.”

“You’re used to it,” Liam says faintly. He feels like he’s stepped into the twilight zone where Harry actually is his boyfriend, even though he could have sworn he went to bed last night single and definitely not in some kind of relationship with his bandmate.

“Morning,” Louis mumbles as he walks in yawning, heading straight for the kettle to make tea. “Harry’s in a horrible mood. Can you just blow him or something?”

Louis looks straight at Liam when he says it, eyebrow raised as if this is something they talk about all the time.

“Uh,” Liam can’t seem to force his thoughts to make sense, because all he can think about is that he’s somehow completely forgotten that he’s in a relationship with Harry.

“Liam, are you still being weird?” Harry asks as he strolls in, leaning down to wrap his arms around Liam’s shoulders. He gets four identical looks and he feels horribly pressured, so he lifts his hand weakly to grab Harry’s arm and gives it a squeeze.

“Sorry, uh, babe,” Liam tries out, finding that it sits quite comfortably on his lips with Harry. “Guess I was out of it this morning or something.”

“He’ll blow you later to make it up to you,” Niall tells Harry, and Liam feels a kick under the table as Niall winks at him.

He feels a bit sick, really. He really can’t fucking remember a single thing about dating Harry.

“How about a proper kiss instead?” Harry murmurs in his ear and well, Liam can do that. He’s already kissed Harry this morning. Feeling completely out of his depth, he hooks his arm around Harry’s waist and tugs him into his lap, relieved when Harry grins at him, looking far happier than he did a few minutes ago.

“Sounds … nice,” Liam stutters before he leans forward and kisses his, well, his boyfriend. Harry wriggles on his lap and, yeah okay that feels a little too nice, so Liam’s hands tighten around Harry’s hips as Harry sneaks his hands under Liam’s shirt, kissing him hard and a little fiercely.

“Hey, no fucking at the breakfast table,” Louis protests and Liam feels a slap around his head. Harry pulls back reluctantly, giving Liam a look that Liam thinks is a promise for later, and fuck if he isn’t looking forward to it.

He might not remember Harry being his boyfriend, but he’s not exactly rushing to protest either.

Harry convinces Liam to go shopping with him, where they obviously can’t hold hands or kiss but Harry does drag him into a changing room and Liam finds himself pressed back against the mirror while Harry attacks his mouth. He ends up with bruised-looking lips and a huge lovebite that Harry laughed at before he promised to buy a scarf or a jacket so Liam could cover it up before they went back into the crowds of fans. He was half-afraid, half-hoping that Harry would put his hand on Liam’s crotch again but the snogging session remained almost totally innocent.

When they get back, Liam convinces Harry to come to the gym with him, since Harry doesn’t seem to want to leave him alone for a second, and Liam’s completely okay with that, weird as he finds it.

While Harry’s on the treadmill getting sweaty and puffy, Liam starts his boxing training with Mark.

"So uh, you know me and Harry," Liam starts, because he still can’t remember anything about him and Harry and he’s starting to wonder if this is some elaborate prank that Louis’ put Harry upto, "do we like … uh."

"Annoy the shit out of me while you make gooey eyes at each other during training?" Mark supplies helpfully, laughing as he dodges Liam’s right hook. "Much like Harry’s doing right now."

Liam glances over and sees Harry blowing him elaborate air kisses. Liam grins at him before he turns back to Mark just in time to block his uppercut.

"Yeah, sorry about that mate," Liam murmurs, unable to completely wipe the smile from his face. "We’ll try and be better, honest."

"I’ll believe it when I see it," Mark says wryly.

The session ends when Harry decides to help Liam do his crunches by holding his ankles and stealing kisses every time Liam pops up, before he gives in and just launches himself on Liam and they end up rolling around on the gym floor, laughing and kissing.

Liam might not remember their relationship but as Harry lifts his shirt up and presses kisses against his belly, Liam’s fingers stroking Harry’s hair gently, he can’t remember ever feeling this stupidly, deliriously happy before.

When they make it to the venue before the concert, Lou has to chase Harry out of the dressing room because he keeps trying to kiss Liam and Lou’s trying to do his makeup. “Don’t you two make out enough?” she huffs as she flicks her brush over Liam’s face.

He flushes and shrugs, barely able to contain his happiness.

"Get out of here," Lou laughs as she swats him away. "And take that lethal smile somewhere else."

Liam catches her hand and kisses it before he leaves, her laugh following him as he heads off to find Harry.

On stage, Liam finds himself gravitating next to Harry more often than usual. Harry’s face lights up every time he sees Liam and well, Liam finds that unbearably irresistible. When they bundle off stage together, Liam’s so high that he grabs Harry’s hand and shoves him into the nearest empty room, kissing him desperately. His hands are roaming under Harry’s shirt, stroking his warm, slightly damp skin and Liam groans into Harry’s mouth, pushing up against him and grinding their hips together.

"Fuck," he hears Harry curse and his hands drop to Harry’s hips, holding him up against the wall as he grinds harder, hearing Harry moan so deliciously. "Liam, shit, Liam, we’ve got to get back to the bus."

It takes him a second to get control of himself but he eventually steps back, his body vibrating with need as he stares at Harry, who just looks dazed.

"Liam," he says throatily, reaching out to grab Liam’s hand. "Liam, fuck. Later, yeah?"

Liam nods, not quite steady as Harry pushes away from the wall and presses a kiss against Liam’s lips, soft and calming. He follows Harry meekly to the car, ignoring the looks the other lads shoot their way as he curls up into Harry’s side, feeling a bit lost and a bit confused but Harry’s hand in his hair is soothing and soon he’s half-asleep.

Harry wakes him up and helps him into bed, laughing softly as Liam pouts and pulls him down with him.

"Let me get undressed first, yeah?" Harry murmurs, wriggling out of his clothes before he curls up behind Liam, draping himself over Liam’s warm body and making him feel thoroughly cocooned.

*

When he wakes up, the first thing he notices is that Harry’s gone. He stumbles out of his bunk with a frown and heads for the kitchen, following the scent of eggs. Harry’s cooking, bare chested and an apron covering the front of his boxers, and Liam grins, slipping his hands around Harry’s waist and nuzzling into his back. He thinks it’s odd that Harry freezes for a second but he almost immediately relaxes again into Liam’s embrace.

"Morning," Harry murmurs as Liam presses a sloppy kiss against his shoulder.

"Morning babe," Liam returns easily, placing his hands on Harry’s hips so he can turn him for a proper kiss.

It’s slow and sweet and easy, and Liam still can’t remember anything except the day before. It’s driving him a bit crazy, not knowing how this started or what stage they’re at, whether they have sex, how long they’ve been together or whether his parents know.

"Guess it worked then," Louis says with a yawn and Liam breaks the kiss, smiling at Harry before he grabs some orange juice and takes a seat opposite Louis at the table.

"Guess what worked?" Liam asks as he takes a sip from his glass.

"The whole April Fool’s thing," Louis says, waving his hand around carelessly between him and Harry.

Oh god.

Liam grabs Louis’ phone from the table and checks the date. April 2nd.

Fuck.

"Harry?" Liam asks, his voice trembling as badly as his hands are as he turns around and sees Harry watching him. "Harry, is this a joke?"

"No, it wasn’t a joke Liam," Harry says carefully, turning the stove off and moving towards Liam, who darts to his feet and moves towards the door. Harry freezes and Louis swears quietly, but Liam’s more concerned with what an absolute twat he’s been.

"We’re not dating," Liam says, half in disbelief that he could have fallen for such a lame prank. "We were never dating. And you let me … in the room at the venue … shit!"

"No, Liam, wait," Harry says urgently, his eyes wide and panicked. "Liam, look, I just … I didn’t know how to tell you that I liked you so we came up with the April Fool’s idea and it was stupid, okay, but I was desperate. I like you. Like, like you.”

"So you made me think we were together," Liam says mechanically as he wraps his arms around himself. "You made me look so fucking stupid, Harry. I thought we were dating! I thought I had some memory blank! I thought … I felt … fuck!"

"I’m sorry," Harry repeats over and over again as Liam stares at him, drained of colour and feeling horribly, horribly sick.

"I’m gonna throw up," Liam mutters and he darts for the bathroom, making it just in time as he starts heaving.

When it’s finally over and Liam feels totally empty inside, he jumps in the shower before he grabs his things and heads out, ignoring Harry’s calls and Niall’s yells. He ignores his phone as it rings every few minutes and the endless amount of text alerts he hears.

He can’t get past the sick feeling in his stomach or the hot flush of embarrassment whenever he remembers the way he’d grabbed Harry last night and oh god, the way he’d rubbed up against him, desperate and needy.

He’s never going to be able to look at Harry again. He’s never going to be able to look at any of them ever again. He was such an idiot. They’d got Paul and Lou to go along with it to make it seem more convincing and he’d fallen for it because he was so stupid. He stupidly believed everything they told him. And worse, he wanted to believe it.

When he can’t put off going back any longer, he hunches his shoulders and walks onto the bus, ignoring Harry’s soft pleas and Zayn’s single call of his name before he heads for his bunk and shuts the curtain, effectively shutting them out.

Not that he can’t hear them, of course. He hears Zayn telling Harry that he knew it wouldn’t work and now Liam’s hurt. He hears Niall tell Harry that he thinks it was at least worth a shot, considering how long Harry’s been pining over him and making their lives miserable. At least he knows now, Niall says and Liam groans into his pillow. Louis tells them that Liam just needs time and he’ll come around.

Liam falls asleep, still feeling utterly miserable.

*

Harry wakes up slowly, snuggling under his covers before the previous day comes flooding back, hitting him right in the chest as he remembers how Liam looked at him yesterday. He remembers the hurt and the pain in his eyes and he buries his face into his pillow, groaning as he berates himself for being so stupid to think Louis’ dumb plan would ever work.

"Shut up, s’too early."

Harry lifts his head and stares. Liam’s staring at him through half-lidded eyes and it takes Harry a second to digest that Liam’s in his bunk. Naked, half-asleep and his legs entangled with Harry’s.

"Hey," Harry whispers, his voice shaking slightly.

"Go back to sleep," Liam murmurs, pulling Harry in to place a chaste kiss on his lips. "I’ll be here when you wake up."

"Promise?" Harry asks, wrapping his arm around Liam’s waist and holding on tightly.

"Promise," Liam swears before he closes his eyes and settles down, hand curled around Harry’s hip.

Harry watches him smile into his pillow before he lays back down, heart racing as he silently watches Liam fall back to sleep.


	14. ziam: RnB duo

Liam wasn’t sure what to expect when Simon called him last week and told him he had a new artist he’d just signed and he wanted Liam to meet him and hit the studio and see what they could come up with. The thing is, Liam’s a bit particular and a lot ambitious and completely terrified of making a wrong move and having his fledgling career fade away before he can really prove what he can do.

Except the boy, or the man, he corrects himself, standing in front of him is gorgeous and clearly nervous and he looks like he’s two seconds away from turning around and leaving the studio. He’s in dark skinny jeans and a black leather jacket with stubble sprinkled across his jawline and beautiful hazel eyes that should be illegal. Liam breaks out of his lovestruck daze because honestly, the guy is stunning and he offers a hand and a sincere smile.

"Zayn? I’m Liam, nice to meet you," Liam introduces himself, staring helplessly as Zayn smiles back at him.

"Hey," he says, his voice quiet and lyrical. "Thanks for meeting me."

"No worries," Liam says easily, his earlier reluctance completely forgotten. "You wanna get on the mike and show me what you’ve got?"

"You want me to just … uh yeah," Zayn fumbles slightly, but he even manages to make that look cool, Liam thinks in appreciation.

He steps behind the desk as Zayn slips into the recording booth and adjusts the mike to his liking. Liam watches as he takes a deep breath before he launches into a version of Hold On, We’re Going Home and Liam realises as he leans forward and stares at Zayn that he’s completely and utterly fucked.

"Zayn, holy shit that was amazing!" he says excitedly as Zayn finishes. Liam’s all but clapping his hands and shoving some sheet music into Zayn’s hands. "This is something I’ve been working on but it’d be perfect for you. Can you read sheet music?"

Zayn nods dumbly, staring at Liam instead of the music.

"Hey, you alright?" Liam asks after a beat, reaching out for Zayn’s arm, his thumb rubbing soothingly over what looks like a zap tattoo. Oh god he has tattoos, Liam realises with a sinking heart.

He’s totally in love.

"Yeah," Zayn says huskily before he clears his throat, his eyes dropping to where Liam’s thumb is stroking his skin. "Yeah, I’m fine. You want me to sing one of your songs?"

"Yeah, it’s perfect for your range," Liam says enthusiastically, withdrawing his hand carefully and trying not to notice Zayn’s frown. "Do you not want to? Oh god please don’t feel like you have to or anything. I mean, my stuff isn’t great or anything and it’s not like I’m established or anything. If you want to sing something else, that’s fine, you know?"

Liam shuts himself up, twisting his mouth into an awkward smile as Zayn just stares at him.

"I’ve got your first album," he says finally, quietly. "It’s amazing."

Liam flushes and ducks his head, still not able to accept a sincere compliment.

"I’d love to sing one of your songs," Zayn says, and Liam feels a hand on his wrist. He looks up to find Zayn much closer than he thought he’d be. His heart flips a little as he stares into Zayn’s eyes, mesmerised by how fucking gorgeous they are. "Can you sing it first, show me how you’d do it?"

Liam has to clear his throat twice before he can launch into the song, a slow haunting love song with a falsetto that Zayn frowns at before Liam finishes the song.

"I can’t do that stuff," Zayn says immediately. "The falsetto. Maybe we could like, duet or something."

Liam’s heart is racing as he quickly agrees, shoving Zayn gently back into the recording booth. “Let’s lay down your vocals first, yeah?”

After twenty run throughs and Zayn’s confidence growing with each version as Liam’s smile brightens until he’s dancing around the studio as Zayn sings, laughing silently at Liam’s antics, Liam thinks they finally have it.

"I’ll add mine tomorrow when I’m back with Niall, one of the producers," Liam explains when Zayn steps through. "That was phenomenal, Zayn. Amazing!"

"You’re nothing like how I expected you to be," Zayn murmurs, and Liam laughs, unoffended.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," he says brightly. He’s had one hit album and he’s been styled as all good RnB stars are, slightly mysterious, dark clothes and a slightly moody expression. It’s not really him, but he’s willing to play the game for a bit until he’s more established.

"You’re really … like," Zayn trails off, looking a bit confused as he steps forward, almost crowding into Liam’s space. "Like, you’re honestly trying to help me. I thought you’d be a bit of a dick, to be honest. Didn’t even want to come."

"I’m glad you did," Liam says honestly, his hand resting on Zayn’s arm, his thumb on that zap tattoo again. "Really glad. I can say I knew you before you were famous."

"You think I’m going to be famous?" Zayn asks, his face brightening into a grin and Liam freezes as he stares at him, knowing he should be more professional but fuck if he’s never met anyone as beautiful as the boy before him.

"No doubt about it," Liam manages to croak out as Zayn seems to move closer.

"Are you aware that you’re incredibly attractive?" Zayn’s voice drops and his gaze traces Liam’s mouth, which has suddenly gone horribly dry.

"No," Liam shakes his head as his hand curls around Zayn’s arm, his other reaching to grip Zayn’s hip. Zayn’s hands lift to cup Liam’s face and suddenly Liam’s heart starts racing. Zayn’s leaning in and oh god, he’s kissing him.

Zayn’s kissing him and it’s perfect. It’s slow and sweet and cautious. Except Liam’s always been too eager, too desperate to experience everything now and he deepens the kiss until Zayn’s kissing him frantically, pressing him up against the wall and his hands slipping under Liam’s shirt. Liam’s got Zayn’s jacket half off his shoulders and his plaid shirt half-unbuttoned before he pulls back, gasping and wide-eyed.

"You’re really, really fit," Zayn murmurs, his smile wicked as he tugs Liam back in.

Liam whimpers as Zayn bites down on his bottom lip before he shoves Zayn back into the large leather chair behind them and sinks to his knees between Zayn’s legs and grins up at him as his hands reach for Zayn’s fly. “Room’s booked for another hour.”

Zayn lets out a shaky laugh as he closes his eyes and buries his hands in Liam’s hair.


	15. lourry: lapdance

Louis knocks on Harry’s hotel room door, glancing back along the empty hallway while he waits impatiently for Harry to answer. There’s no cameras pointing at their rooms; he’s checked. So he’s as sure as he can be that no one knows, or will ever know, that he’s knocking on Harry’s door.

"Hey Lou," Harry says sleepily as he opens the door.

Louis pushes past him and slams the door shut, breathing easier as soon as he does because there’s definitely no recording equipment in the rooms. The bodyguards always check before they check in.

"What’s up?" Harry asks as he steps past Louis and half-falls, half-drops onto the bed. He covers a yawn and the wrinkled sheets are just more proof that Louis’ woken him up.

"It was your birthday," Louis blurts out before he closes his mouth and frowns at himself.

"Yeah," Harry says slowly. He rubs his hand over his eyes and when he looks up at Louis again, there’s a focus and a sharpness that wasn’t there before. Before, when he was half-asleep and confused and just let Louis into his hotel room like this was something they did anymore. "Three weeks ago. You came to the party."

"Yeah," Louis says before he sighs and closes his eyes. "I promised you a birthday present. For your 21st."

When he opens his eyes, Harry’s staring at him, a crinkle formed between his eyes.

"That was before," Harry says. He waves his hand around between them. "Before we. You know."

"Yeah, I know," Louis says heavily. But he tilts his jaw and stares determinedly back at Harry. "But I promised."

"Lou," Harry says warningly, but Louis isn’t listening. He starts moving towards Harry, letting his hips sway slowly to a beat only he can hear. He watches Harry drag in a ragged breath and his hands ball into fists, but Harry doesn’t stop him. Harry doesn’t move as Louis leans in, closer than he has in years, since, well, everything happened, he feels Harry’s breath warm and familiar on his cheek.

It takes everything he has not to lean in closer.

Instead he circles his hands around Harry’s wrists and pulls them up to settle on his hips, and he ignores the pained sound Harry makes. He ignores it because Harry keeps his hands where Louis’ positioned them, his fingers digging gently into Louis’ skin. Marked, Louis thinks wildly as he gyrates his hips the way Harry used to like.

"Yeah?" Louis asks. He can’t stop himself. He needs to know he’s not making a fool of himself. That Harry doesn’t. Christ. That Harry isn’t going to just laugh at him because Harry hasn’t wanted this in a long time.

"Yeah," Harry says hoarsely, and his fingers dig in harder. "Yeah, Lou."

Relieved, Louis closes his eyes and shuffles closer, straddling Harry’s long legs and lowering himself down until he’s grinding against Harry.

They’re both hard.

He reaches for the hem of his shirt and whips it off quick, like a band-aid. And he doesn’t say a word when Harry’s hands slide up his back, forcing him to arch forward into Harry’s body.

"Christ, Lou," Harry mutters, but Louis can barely hear him over the rush of blood in his head. He wriggles back and unbuttons his jeans. And opens his eyes when he feels Harry’s hands brush over his, lowering the zip slowly.

And he hears the sharp intake of breath Harry makes when he sees the bulge in Louis’ pants where he’s hard and straining against the soft cotton of his boxers.

"Lou," Harry says huskily, and Christ, Louis’ missed that sound. He’s missed it so much it hurts.

So he wriggles back further until he’s standing, and he lowers his jeans down as slowly as he can manage.

There’s a part of him that’s getting off on this as much as Harry is. He’s almost naked while Harry’s fully dressed, and it’s the complete opposite of how it used to be. Before. When Harry would do anything for Louis. When Harry would do ridiculous strip teases for him, and when he’d begged Louis to promise to return the favour. On his 21st birthday. With the flush of love and youth, Louis had promised, pleased by how bright Harry’s eyes shone and how filthily Harry had sucked his dick after.

Before.

"You’re so beautiful, Lou," Harry murmurs, making Louis’ head snap up in surprise. "Y’always were. But like, more now."

"Don’t," Louis says shakily. He bats away Harry’s hands when he reaches for him, pushing him back onto the bed until Harry’s flat against the mattress. Louis turns around and bends over, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment as he yanks his boxers down and his traitorous dick springs free, already leaking and ready for someone who doesn’t even want him.

But he promised.

Louis turns around and straddles Harry again. He’s naked and Harry’s fully clothed and he gets off so, so hard on Harry having all the power this time. He’s got nothing left. Nothing left to hide, not with his dick hard and fat for Harry, even now.

He’s giving Harry more than a lap dance. He’s giving Harry himself in a way he hadn’t been able to, two years before. He’s giving Harry a part of his soul. Part of his fears. Part of himself that he’ll never, ever get back.

"Lou," Harry says brokenly. "Lou, please. Let me."

Louis almost lets out a sob. He’s already given Harry so much, even if Harry doesn’t want it. So what’s one more thing? He’s already broken anyway.

So he nods jerkily and Harry’s hands skim over his torso, learning new lines and curves and tattoos.

Then Louis finds himself flat on the bed, staring up at Harry who’s watching him while he tugs off his own shirt. His jeans come off next, and Louis can’t take his eyes off him.

When Harry skims his boxers down over his legs and kicks them off, Louis drags in a ragged breath. He’d been expecting this, if he’s honest with himself. Maybe even hoping for it. But when Harry lowers himself down over Louis’ body, Louis drags him in for a sloppy, familiar kiss that drags a low whimper from Harry that Louis swallows desperately.

He clings to every moan and sharp cry Harry makes, and he tells himself that this is goodbye on their terms. That this is Harry wanting him, if only once more. That this is Harry choosing him just this once, over the career and future Harry really chose last time.

When Harry sinks into him and Louis whimpers helplessly at how fucking full Harry makes him feel, he gives up trying to think anything at all and rocks his hips up, making Harry gasp.

"Wanna feel it," Louis slurs. "Wanna feel you tomorrow and the day after."

When Harry flops down onto the bed next to him and there’s nothing between them except their own mess and a widening space, Louis tries to sit up, needing to get out so he can just fucking breathe.

Except Harry’s reaching for him, eyes clear and bright as Louis looks back over his shoulder, questioning.

"Stay," Harry says softly. "Please. Just. Please stay."

Louis knows Harry means tonight. He doesn’t mean forever, because Harry doesn’t want him forever. But he falls back against the bed and lets Harry clean them both up. And he lets Harry tug him into bed, and he doesn’t protest when Harry carefully and slowly pulls Louis into his arms.

And Harry doesn’t protest when Louis lets his fingers dance across Harry’s skin as possessively as he dares.

And when Harry kisses him goodnight and turns the light off, Louis wishes he could stay forever.

"You should," Harry says fiercely, and Louis realises belatedly that he’s spoken out loud. "Please stay, Lou. Please."

He doesn’t know if Harry means it. He doesn’t know if it’s even possible, and he’s too exhausted to work out two years of issues in one night. But he throws his leg over Harry’s, and he curls his hand over Harry’s shoulder, and he buries his face into Harry’s neck. And he dreams about forever.


	16. lirry: half a heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is where it all begins, Liam," Harry says as he wraps his arms around Liam's neck and nuzzles into him. "This is where they'll say it all began. Where the biggest boyband in the world was created. This moment will be in all the history books and this hotel will have a plaque outside with our names on it and a date and people will come here on tours to look at where One Direction all began."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some events have been transposed, moved, rearranged or completely fabricated for the story. Just go with it, please?

There's a faint thrum of noise that seems to follow him around. Whether he's in the hallway trying to practice or snatching five seconds of peace, there's a constant hum in the room, even when he thinks he's alone. And he desperately wants to be alone for just a few minutes to gather his thoughts and get himself into the right frame of mind to get through these few critical days.

It's harder than he ever thought it would be, the second time round. He's either at an advantage or a disadvantage having been here before and knowing what it's like to get through each stage; he can't quite decide which though. He thinks perhaps it's a disadvantage because he just wants it so badly and he almost had it once before, only for everything to slip through his fingers at the last hurdle. But he's older now and his voice is stronger, _he's_ stronger, and he can do it this time, he knows he can.

If he can just get five seconds to himself.

Getting through the first round was easy in a way, he thinks. He'd spent a whole year practising until he was pitch perfect, his voice strong and full, his passion seeping through every note. This time, he's had less than a day to practice and while he's fairly confident that he's not going to forget the lyrics or sing off-key, he knows it's not nearly as perfect as his audition piece and that worries him.

He just wants everything to be perfect, this time round.

Liam's tired and a bit homesick but this is everything he's ever wanted. It's all he's been working towards for two years and it'll be worth every hard moment he's ever experienced, he knows it will, if he can just work that little bit harder to make it through.

His gaze lifts as someone passes him, a boy with curls shoved under a beanie who he thinks he's seen around here before, and once again he wishes he could just be alone. He's much more comfortable alone where he can stop worrying about what everyone else thinks and what everyone else is going to do, and he can just focus on himself.

When his name is finally called and he walks out on stage, he does everything he can to project a confidence he doesn't quite feel. When he speaks, his voice sounds normal and he's trying so desperately to prove to Simon that he's older and wiser now, and he can do it this time.

When he lifts the microphone to start singing, Liam's just glad that his hand holds steady, as does his voice. He can hear a few slightly flat notes and he knows when his voice is a little thin, but he remembers that the worst thing he can do is stop, so he carries on and bluffs it out. Glued to the telly every year watching it, he knows that sometimes contestants get through the X Factor stages on pure bravado, so he tries to project some of that into his performance, but in the end he's not sure how well he pulls that off.

When he walks offstage, all he can think is how he could have done better, what he could have done to make it perfect and how he might have just ruined everything because he didn't stay up long enough to practice or he didn't hit a note in quite the right way.

He's given five minutes to get himself straight then he's shown to a seat in the audience to watch the rest of the acts, and honestly it's like torture watching how good everyone else is. He sees act after act perform, sometimes it's the same song he just sang, sometimes it's a different one but Liam analyses each one, compares his chances against each contestant. It's not long before he's in a bit of a state, realising how good the competition is this year between the boys and he knows there's a very good chance that he won't make it, and he's not sure how he's going to go home and face that. He's just tried so hard, is all.

Next on stage is the boy he's seen running around in the beanie with the curls. He seems more nervous than the others, Liam thinks, but when he opens his mouth and sings, Liam sits up a little bit straighter and pays attention. He's good, Liam thinks as his heart sinks. He's really good. Nervous, and his voice is a little shaky because of it, but his tone is amazing and Liam can feel his chances slipping further and further away.

After that, he switches off and tries not to pay any attention to anyone else on stage. Now he's wondering how much airtime they'll give him as a returning contestant and how much teasing he's going to get at home. How much bullying he'll have to endure at school. And honestly, that's the absolute worst.

Sleep evades him that night, knowing that it's most likely going to be the end of all his dreams. Everything he's worked so hard for will be for nothing, even though he'd done everything Simon had asked of him.

In the morning he's bleary eyed, but most of the contestants are and he figures no one got a good night's sleep. Except maybe that Irish kid who really likes Justin Bieber, he's tucking into breakfast and chatting non-stop, and Liam thinks that's kind of wonderful. He sits near enough that he can listen to him talk, enjoying the lilt of his Irish accent that soothes Liam a little as he buries his head down and eats his cereal slowly.

When they're finally lined up on stage, Liam tries not to let his hopes rise. As each successful contestant gets called through for the Judges Houses stage, Liam feels everything slipping away. He takes a deep breath and then the last name is read out and it's not his. He feels the tears pooling in his eyes because he's just tried everything this time but it hasn't been enough. _He_ hasn't been enough, and that's a feeling he's far too familiar with.

Dermot's there when he steps offstage and Liam just sort of falls into his waiting arms, lets Dermot hold him up for a second until he can find the strength to hold himself up. He knows there are cameras capturing every moment of his heartbreak and he knows they need a story, but there are some things that should be kept private. He can see them filming the Irish kid as he hides his face in his jumper and walks away. He can see the kid in the beanie trying to be brave but clearly wanting to fall apart and Liam's empathy runs over because that's just how he feels. How they all feel. He lets the camera shoot for a few minutes as he tries to talk but the emotions are just too strong and he has to walk away.

As he passes the beanie-wearing kid, he reaches out a hand to place it on his small shoulder. The kid looks up in surprise, eyes red-rimmed and overly bright, and suddenly Liam feels so much older, even though he suspects they're the same age.

"You were good," Liam says, his voice wobbling a bit but he feels like he has to tell him, that someone should tell him that he was good. "I thought you'd definitely get through. Sorry mate."

And that's all Liam can manage before he's hurrying off to find some space where he can be alone and just cry before he has to face his family and friends and everyone else who will soon know that he failed again. Except he's being held back by someone, asked to stand with the rest of the rejects and he can hear someone muttering quite loudly about how they probably just want more footage of them crying because it makes good telly.

He can feel the frustration rising like a tidal wave inside of him but he banks it back, forces it down until later, when he can be alone and let it ride. For now, he has to be a good sport and accept defeat graciously. He can do this, he's done it before. It's just a few more minutes.

It takes him a second to realise that some people are being called back. He hears names being called out and his eyes widen as he recognises his own. He follows four other boys nervously. The Irish kid is in front of him, as is the beanie kid and two others. He's the last on stage and he slips his arm around the boy next to him because that's what the rest of them have done. He doesn't even know the kid's name, but something's happening right now, something that might save him and these other four lads from leaving their dreams behind, and whatever it is, he'll do it. He'll do whatever it takes and he'll do everything he can to achieve his dreams and if it means doing it with these strangers, he'll do it.

He listens carefully, and when Nicole explains that they're too talented to let go of them, his heart starts to race. He hears Simon say they want to put them through as a group and that's all he remembers because there's screaming and he can't focus over the buzzing in his ears, watching these boys, who have suddenly just become the most important people in his life, these four strangers, drop to the floor and look around in amazement. They initiate a hug, perhaps trying to find a bond even in these first few moments, and Liam's a little unsure of how that works because he's never been a particularly tactile person, but he awkwardly puts his arms around them and they take a collective breath. Liam just tries to memorise their faces and tries to remember this moment because it could be the start of everything.

Simon's telling them they'll have to work hard, and that's okay because Liam's good at working hard, he's good at doing what he's told. And when they walk offstage, it's to a cacophony of noise as they're all introducing themselves to each other and talking about how amazing this is. Liam's just following them though, wondering how he can feel so low and useless one minute to being so high and optimistic the next.

He realises a little belatedly that he's not the only quiet one. He turns to his left and attempts a smile for the boy next to him, who looks as uncertain as he probably does.

"I'm Liam," he offers, holding out his hand.

"Zayn," the boy answers, pausing before he shakes Liam's hand.

They both trail after the other three and Liam thinks perhaps he might have made his first friend.

Liam's quick to establish some basic facts about his new bandmates. Louis is loud and likes to be heard. Harry is quiet and nervous but he laughs a lot. Zayn is quiet, perhaps too quiet, and he seems overwhelmed by the whole situation. Niall is easygoing and finds everything, absolutely everything, hysterically funny.

Liam spends a lot of time worrying about how they'll ever manage to pull together long enough to sing together.

They're only at Simon's place for a day when Louis ends up at the hospital and they're all anxious. Harry suggests practising as a four, but it doesn't sound as good as they had before with Louis, and it's the first time Liam really starts to believe in them, all five of them together, because they really do sound great as a five. But they have to do the audition with Louis lip-syncing because the pain is making his voice shake and all Liam can think about is that it could be better, they need Louis to be better and he just _can't_ go home again after Judges Houses. He's been here before, and he knows this is his last chance. These boys are his last chance.

He can't go home.

While they wait nervously around the back of the house, lounging around a pool as if their entire lives aren't balanced on the decision being made on the other side of the house, as if there aren't other bands who could take their place and live the lives they should be living.

Louis is quiet, surprisingly, contemplating his foot and Liam understands for once, thinks that he's worried about whether it could be his fault that they don't go through. But Liam doesn't blame Louis. He'd never blame Louis. Niall is trying to persuade Zayn that he doesn't need more sun cream on, that he'll be okay in the scorching heat. Liam thinks Zayn's right, but he can't focus on Niall's pale skin or Zayn's need to look after someone. He leaves them to their bickering.

Harry is pacing quietly, his hair falling into his eyes every time he spins around to begin a new lap. Liam thinks that perhaps he understands Harry better than the others. The responsibility ultimately comes down to the two of them, because they sang lead in the audition. If they fail, they'll spend the rest of their lives wondering what they could have done differently. How they could have been better. What was lacking in them that stopped them achieving their dreams.

It's a heavy burden to bear, Liam knows. He's carried it around for two years.

The surprising thing about Harry is that he's not very confident. Liam's found him a few times almost hyperventilating before a performance or rehearsal and he now knows Harry gets stage fright. Liam gets nervous all the time but he's never been afraid to go out on stage and perform, so it's a part of Harry that Liam can't understand, at least not yet. If they can somehow get through, he'll learn how he can ease Harry's nerves, how he can distract Harry from worrying, because he knows it'll make them a better band. They'll be a more cohesive unit if he can help Harry, and ultimately they all know that's what they'll need to do to survive.

He wonders if Harry is feeling everything Liam feels. Harry had been the one to come up with their new name, after all, and it perfectly summed up everything Liam had felt in that moment.

"Harry?" Liam says quietly as Harry's just about to pass him for approximately the 76th time. When Harry stops and looks up at Liam in surprise, as if he'd forgotten that there was anyone else there, Liam tries to smile. "Stop pacing. Come and sit."

And he does, to Liam's slight surprise. He practically falls onto Liam's lounger and stretches out long and yet still tense next to him.

"Try to stop worrying," Liam says quietly and he sees Harry close his eyes and take a deep breath.

"It just means so much, you know?" Harry whispers as if he's telling a secret, but Liam is pretty sure they're all feeling the same way.

"Yeah," is all Liam can say. He doesn't know these boys yet, doesn't know the words to say that will calm Harry or soothe him. But he wants to know, he wants to so desperately because that means they'd have a future together, as a band. And Liam's only been in this band for a few weeks but he already knows he wants this more than anything, perhaps more than he even wanted a solo career, because there's something that sounds so lovely about being in a band, being in a brotherhood with these boys that maybe Liam's been missing all this time but never knew it, never realised it.

"How did it feel?" Harry asks after a prolonged silence. "You know, last time you did this."

Liam doesn't really want to think about it. He doesn't want to remember. He's about to brush the question aside when Harry's hand slips into his. He's surprised, although he's already noticed that the boys are much more tactile than he is. Harry's hand feels small and soft, and Liam's closing his fingers around Harry's, entwining their hands together before he realises it. His heart is racing as he closes his eyes and remembers, for Harry.

"Like my world had ended," Liam admits, squeezing his fingers gently around Harry's. "I felt like a failure. Like I'd let everyone down. I just wanted it so badly, wanted to change my life and give my parents everything they deserved. I wanted to be someone else, because I couldn't imagine being the me I was for the rest of my life. So when Simon told me to come back, I did everything I could to make sure he'd pick me this time. That I'd be given a second chance."

He's not sure where that all came from and he glances down at Harry, a little horrified, but Harry's just watching him solemnly. "We're your second chance, Liam. We won't let you down."

A warm feeling floods through him and he smiles reluctantly at little Harry, who looks so fierce and determined, and Liam understands that. "Yeah, I know," he says, a little surprised at how much he believes that. "I'll try not to let you down either."

"You won't," Harry says confidently as he closes his eyes and tugs at Liam until he's lying next to Harry. "You're the strong one."

Liam's not sure how true that is, but if Harry thinks he's strong, then he _will_ be.

When Simon finally tells them that he's taking through to the live shows, Liam can't quite process anything. He'd been so sure that he was going to be sent home again, that he would have to go back to his life and be the Liam he'd always been terrified of being struck as forever, that he wouldn't see these boys again and any friendship they'd managed to forge together would disappear, that he wouldn't be a singer and make his living onstage, that when Simon gives them a chance, he can't quite believe it. Even when he helps a hobbling Louis back to their rooms, he's still in some kind of fog that he can't quite emerge from.

When they're finally alone and it's only the five of them, they just sort of stare at each other, all of them bemused and possibly in shock. Until Louis lets out a loud whoop and Niall does a weird kind of yell and Zayn just grins stupidly and Harry reaches out to grab Liam's hand and Niall's hand and then they're suddenly in a huge group hug. Liam thinks he's never been happier in his entire life.

Until Harry falls over and Liam tumbles as well because he's still holding Harry's hand and that brings Louis down and they're all in a heap, laughing and screaming and Liam's trying to ask Louis if his foot is okay and Louis is shouting too loudly to hear him and Liam thinks it's kind of wonderful.

Liam isn't feeling so wonderful when they're at Harry's bungalow. Cracks are starting to show, and Liam's worried. Louis has declared that they don't need to practice singing, that singing is not as important as them getting along and being friends. And while Liam doesn't necessarily disagree with that, he does think that practicing is important. Practicing is what got him this far, and he can't see why they can't do both.

Louis thinks Liam's being a dick.

Liam thinks Louis is a bit of a dick as well, if he's being totally honest. But the rest of the band love him, and Liam knows they need Louis, he just honestly thinks they need to spend more time focusing on singing, that's all.

He's been slowly getting wound up all week, until he's fit to burst. Zayn has been staying close to him, urging him to just let it go, but Liam can't. He's played more video games in the past week than he's played all year and he's pretty sure most bands have not seen every member naked with as much regularity as Liam has seen his bandmates.

When Louis suggests another hour of Playstation, Liam tenses up. He feels Zayn's hand on his arm and he turns to offer him a tight smile. Zayn is an absolute godsend, Liam thinks, in this crazy band he's managed to wind up in, but he needs to get out of here before he explodes.

He slips out of the room as quietly as he can manage and heads for the front door, stopping just outside so he can get some air and cool himself down from the hot flush of annoyance that is creeping through his body.

Liam tries to remind himself that Louis is probably right, that they can't be a band and tiptoe around each other the whole time. Except that's what Liam feels like he's doing anyway because he can't just tell Louis that he thinks they should practice. Not when the rest of the lads have gone along so easily with Louis' suggestion. Or Louis' order, Liam corrects himself. Just because he's the oldest, Liam thinks frustratedly, although he quickly lets that thought disappear because he's annoyed but he's not childish or immature.

He's not sure how long he stays out there, but he's almost calm when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Expecting Zayn, he's startled when he half-turns to see Harry studying him, his green eyes soft and knowing.

"We'll practice when we get back to London," he says and Liam questions if he's that painfully obvious to everyone.

He sighs, feeling a little tension seep away. "I don't mean to be such a grouch," he says, wondering if that's how they think of him. "I honestly don't. I just want us to be good. I want to win."

"No one thinks you're moaning, Liam," Harry assures him with a small smile that flashes his dimples. "I think Louis used the words pain-in-the-arse and buzz-kill, but I'm almost certain he doesn't mean it."

Liam groans into his hands, feeling like a complete idiot and wondering when the band are going to realise that he's just not like the rest of them, that he can't just switch off from everything he's worked so hard for, when they'll realise that he's not fun and he has nothing to offer the band except ambition and drive and when they'll realise that he's just a bit useless and stupid.

Harry's hands slip around him and Liam finds himself tucked into Harry's body. Part of him can't believe he's being comforted by the baby of the group while the other part of him wants to bury into Harry and never let go, because somehow Harry feels safe.

"Louis wants this just as much as you," Harry murmurs from somewhere above him. "He'll work just as hard as you, Liam. But he's pretty smart, you know. I think he's right, that we do need to be comfortable with each other. Know when to push and when to step back. It'll help in the long run."

"I know," Liam mumbles into Harry's t-shirt, and the thing is, he _does_ know Louis' right. But his ambition isn't something he can just switch off. It's been part of him for so long, the best part of him really to the point where sometimes he thinks it's even been the _only_ part of him for so long that he doesn't know what else there is of Liam Payne without it.

But he can't tell Harry that. So he just holds on tight and lets Harry support him until he feels strong enough to stand up and face the boys. And reminds himself that he promised himself that he'd be the strong one for Harry.

He pulls back and takes a deep breath before he smiles at Harry. "Thanks, mate."

"Anytime," Harry says solemnly before he leads Liam back into the bungalow, keeping a tight grip on him for the rest of the night.

Before they leave, ready to head back to London, Harry asks everyone to line up outside the bungalow while he disappears. Liam stands between Zayn and Louis while they wait for Harry to return. When he does, brandishing some fancy-looking camera, Liam laughs as Harry says something soppy about wanting to capture this moment forever. Liam reaches over, wrapping his arms around Zayn's shoulders and Louis' waist. Louis' arm rests on his shoulder and squeezes gently. Liam bites his lip before he lets his head drop a little onto Louis' shoulder and he feels Louis' head rest on his momentarily. It's a start, he thinks. They grin for Harry, four happy boys with everything in front of them and everything to work for. Then at Louis' insistence, Harry passes the camera to his mum and races towards them, not breaking up their stance but dropping to his knees in front of Liam and Louis. Liam drops his hand onto Harry's shoulder, making sure they're all connected and they mug for the camera until Anne's happy with the final shot. Liam helps Harry to his feet and Harry's off to grab his camera, getting lost in an enveloping hug from his mum that makes Liam miss his own mum for a second. But Zayn's pulling on his arm and he quickly pushes that thought aside as they climb into the car and head for London, Liam dropping his head onto Niall's shoulder as he dozes off and dreams about winning.

Whenever he and Louis clash during rehearsals, Liam forces himself to remember Harry's words. Every time Louis wants to pull a prank and while Liam wants to perfect a note, Liam tries to remember. Every time Louis distracts a member of the band while Liam's singing, he tries to remember. Every time he wants to smack Louis like he's being a naughty child, Liam tries to remember. And every time Harry laughs at Louis when he knows he shouldn't, he shoots Liam a little smile or touches his arm slightly and it helps just a little.

It helps a lot before they go onstage for their first real performance as a band when Louis makes everyone laugh and he shoots a look at Liam as if to say join us, laugh with us. Liam's lips lift into a smile and Louis' answering grin makes his nervous dissipate. Liam thinks that perhaps he gets it a little now. Perhaps he understands Louis a little better, in this moment. And he knows that Louis is responsible for forcing Liam to understand, so maybe it's Liam's responsibility to make Louis understand _him_.

When he steps onto the stage, all the doubts disappear and the performance takes over. He keeps an eye on everyone, making sure everyone's in the right place and singing together. Niall has a moment where he gets a little lost but Liam locks eyes with him and brings him back and he hopes no one really noticed.

When the song ends and Liam's in the middle, finishing the song and hearing the cheers of the audience, hearing his boys whispering together in excitement, Liam wonders if this might be the best feeling in the world.

Then Harry wraps his arm around him and falls into him and Liam holds strong, holds steady as the other boys join the hug and he's holding them all up and he closes his eyes for a second to just enjoy this and he realises that this is why Louis has fought so hard for them to bond, because it just wouldn't mean as much if he was up here singing with four strangers. And he finally gets it.

He barely hears what the judges say and when he runs off stage with the boys, they fall into a giggling, stupid heap and Liam just takes a second to remember that they're all teenage boys living their dreams right now and maybe it's a good thing to remind himself of that now and again, or to let Louis remind him.

They all smile as Harry snaps a few pictures and he wonders if it's a hobby of Harry's or he's just collecting memories of the X Factor because he doesn't think it'll last.

It's the second week when Harry falls apart.

When Harry can't sing his solo and he looks pale and sick, Liam doesn't know what to do. He's taken offstage and the rest of them just look around, confused. The solos are switched and they practice again, minus Harry, but none of them are paying full attention to the song and everything sounds off. Eventually they're all dismissed and they head straight for where Harry's sitting, sipping at water and looking miserable.

Louis smothers him in a hug and Liam just stands there looking awkward, wishing he knew what to do. When Louis finally lets him go, Zayn puts his hand on Harry's shoulder and smiles down at him. Harry smiles back. It's a little shaky but it's there. Niall bends down to hug him as well and pulls back, looking at Liam expectantly. They're all looking at Liam expectantly except for Harry, who's just staring at the floor.

Liam decides to go with his instincts and, remembering how Harry comforted him, Liam pulls Harry to his feet. But instead of hugging him, Liam flops down on the chair and pulls Harry into his lap. He feels Harry relax against him and knows it was the right choice. Harry's arms curl around his neck and Liam murmurs nonsense words to him. He's not sure what he's saying but Harry's hands curl into his hair and he figures it must be soothing Harry somehow.

The rest of the lads flop onto their own chairs while Niall chooses the floor at Louis' feet and they talk about how they're going to change the song to make it work without Harry's solo.

Liam ignores their curious looks in their direction and just carries on talking in a low voice until Harry just falls asleep against his chest.

Liam keeps an arm around Harry's waist, his other hand resting on Harry's thigh and he shifts back a little, closing his own eyes as he listens to the boys talking quietly, the conversation having moved on to whether Katy Perry or Rihanna is hotter. Liam thinks Katy because he's seen her in person and she's lovely, but he keeps quiet, not wanting to wake the exhausted boy in his arms.

He doesn't realise he's fallen asleep himself until he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to find Louis' bright blue eyes looking back at him.

"We're heading back to the house," he says quietly, his hand dropping to Harry's head for a second. "We'll send the car back for you, yeah?"

Liam gives Louis a small smile, which Louis just nods slowly at before he turns and leaves them alone.

Liam's body aches a little and he wonders how long they've been sitting here together.

Harry snuffles a little and Liam can't help but be totally endeared. His eyes finally open and he looks sleepy and adorably confused before he focuses on Liam and his smile is instant and dazzling.

"Hey," Liam says softly.

"Hi," Harry returns, his hands tightening around Liam's neck as his gaze flickers across the room. "Where's everyone else?"

"They went back to the house," Liam says, rubbing Harry's thigh slowly, mostly to regain some blood flow in his own hand. "Louis' sending the car back for us."

Harry stays silent.

"It's okay, you know," Liam says conversationally. He sees Harry glance up at him but he's staring across the room, deliberately not looking at Harry. "Everyone gets nervous. It's pretty scary, singing on live telly for millions at home."

"It's never happened to me like that before," Harry says, trying to echo Liam's tone and only slightly failing. "Liam, what if I can't get over it?"

"Of course you will," Liam brushes aside that objection because he knows Harry can do it. He absolutely believes in him. "We'll help you. I'll help you."

"I don't know how you go out there and do it so easily," Harry sighs as he drops his head onto Liam's chest, hiding. "You're carrying us, Liam."

Liam ignores that because he simply knows it's not true. If anything, the four of them are carrying him. He's just waiting for them to realise it.

"Do you think they'll let me switch places?" Harry asks when the silence drags out. "Put me next to you?"

"Of course they will," Liam says, oddly pleased that Harry wants to stand next to him. Like Liam is a comfort, or something. And if they don't let Harry switch, he'll just throw an epic fit until they do. He's absolutely certain Louis will help.

"Okay," Harry says like he believes Liam will fix it. And he will, if it helps Harry. He'll do it.

He blinks as Harry reaches for the camera that's never far away and snaps a picture of Liam that's so quick he doesn't get a chance to smile or pose or check his hair. Harry smiles at the preview screen though so he hopes it's not too bad.

It's fairly easy in the end to rearrange them so Harry is next to him for most of the song, and everything goes smoothly. He and Louis are still butting heads over a lot of issues, but now there's a level of understanding forming between them, an understanding that they both just want the best for the band and perhaps the band needs both of them to succeed.

In the third week, Harry manages to sing his solo without any problems. Liam keeps an eye on him for most of the song, smiling over to him encouragingly and Harry casts little glances at him as well. Liam thinks that perhaps this is what he can contribute to the band, these little moments of keeping them together and focused and strong. Perhaps that's what he's here for. When Harry finishes his solo he looks over at Liam with such a blinding, proud grin that Liam almost stumbles over his words, but he keeps going right to the end. He's reaching for Harry on the final note only to find Harry is already reaching for him and they lock together, the rest of the band joining in and Liam thinks that perhaps it's all going to be okay.

Somehow, they make it all the way to the final. They spend most of their time practicing, goofing around, arguing over the mess in their collective rooms and wondering how the hell they've managed to come so far. Every time they appear in one of the newspapers, they head out and buy multiple copies, laughing at what the press has got right and laughing harder over what they've got wrong.

Liam's finally starting to feel more comfortable in the band, and he and Louis are really trying hard to understand each other. It's difficult and Liam still gets upset and annoyed sometimes, but a quiet word from Zayn or a look from Harry or a hug from Niall usually sorts him out. It's strange, how quickly they've developed these bonds that are still forming, but Liam likes it a lot. He's not overly comfortable with how often they all fall over each other and hands and legs get entwined. It's almost like Louis encourages it, but Liam thinks that he's getting better at it.

Harry's even taken to falling asleep on him for what feels like every chance he gets. It's becoming a standard joke between them now, whenever Harry yawns or Liam's stretched out, the boys tease as to how long it'll be before Harry finds his way into Liam's space and just crashes on him.

Liam asked Harry once why he did it, and Harry just looked at him and shrugged.

"I can stop if you want me to," he'd said. There was nothing different in the way he said it or the way he looked at Liam, but Liam knew that his answer was important somewhow.

"No, I don't mind," Liam had replied, trying not to speak too quickly. "I like that you fall asleep on me. Makes me feel useful. Just wondered why, was all."

"You're comfortable," Harry had said, and Liam had accepted it.

When they're choosing songs for the final, they're alone in one of the rooms because Liam and Louis had argued with Simon about how they wanted to decide their fate and Simon had let them, astonishingly enough. Louis and Liam had high-fived victoriously and they grinned at each other, wondering what else they could do if they put their heads together and pulled in the same direction.

Niall is lying on Liam, his feet dangling off the sofa while Liam's hand rests on his chest. He's used to it now and finds it more normal to have one of the boys hanging off him than not.

Louis and Harry are both hanging off Zayn, trying to make him smile, and Liam thinks they look fucking adorable together.

"Torn," he says, and the boys all stop to look at him. He turns a little sheepish and keeps his gaze locked on Louis. "It was the first time we sang as a band. It's like, special."

"Yeah," Louis agrees, and that's one song chosen.

They don't really get a choice with the Robbie Williams song, so that's one decision they don't have to make. But the third causes some almighty arguments that Liam mostly tries to settle peacefully.

They've been locked in the room for almost two hours now, and everyone's shifted around. Louis is sitting with one hand buried in Niall's hair as he sits between Louis' legs on the floor and Zayn's half asleep on Louis' shoulder.

Harry is trying to mess up Liam's hair and has been for the past twenty minutes, but since Liam resorted to just holding Harry's restless hands in defence, Harry's been happily quiet, his fingers entwining with Liam's and he's not spoken much since.

As Liam ignores Niall and Louis arguing over another song, he thinks perhaps this one is an Arctic Monkeys choice that Niall hates, he feels Harry tugging his hands free and Liam lets him go with an arch look that Harry ignores.

Mostly Liam's feeling oddly bereft, but he shoves that feeling aside, especially when Harry shifts and tugs on Liam until he overbalances and his head ends up in Harry's lap. And once Harry's hand slides into Liam's hair, he's pretty much lost all track of the conversation and just closes his eyes in bliss as Harry lightly scratches his scalp.

Liam's not sure how long he's been out of it before Harry's saying his name.

"Hmm?" he opens his eyes to see Louis and Niall glaring at him. "What?"

"Harry suggested a song," Louis says, and Liam belatedly realises that even Zayn is awake now. "Four of us say yes. It's down to you."

"Oh," Liam says slowly, shifting so he can look up at Harry, who's hand has stilled in his hair. "Well, isn't it a majority vote? Does it matter what I think?"

"Of course it matters," Harry says quietly, frowning down at him. "This one isn't a majority. It's an all or nothing."

Liam blinks slowly before turning back to face the other three. Harry's hand resumes its stroking. "Well, what's the song?"

"Your Song," Niall supplies, his eyes watchful on Liam.

"Elton John?" Liam considers the song, runs through it quickly in his mind and closing his eyes so he can hear each section of the song and who might sing what. He's smiling before he opens his eyes and he can see Louis grinning back at him, already knowing the answer.

"He's in, boys!" Louis shouts and he gives Zayn and Niall high-fives. "Good choice, Harold!"

Liam feels Harry's hand pause momentarily in his hair again before he continues as if nothing's happened.

"Yeah, good choice," Liam mumbles, certain that only Harry can hear him. "Really good choice."

"Right, let's go tell Simon and get practicing," Louis says loudly, grinning when Liam shoots him a look. "That's right, Payno, I'm going to be you for the day. So come on, lovebirds, let's get a move on."

Liam flushes, but Harry just tugs lightly on Liam's hair and they somehow scramble to their feet to follow Louis. Harry's hand slips into Liam's and he just shrugs with a grin.

Liam lets Harry swing their hands together all the way to Simon's office and he tries not to think about how big and soft Harry's hand is or how much he likes holding it.

The staging for the final has Liam spotlighted first. He doesn't mind, all the way up until it hits him on the night and he feels alone. He can't see the other boys even though he knows they're there and he hates it. He thought he'd love to pretend for a few seconds that he's up there alone, singing on the X Factor final as a soloist, but he's changed from that 16-year old who auditioned half a year ago. Now, he hates the idea of being alone onstage and he just wants the other boys to light up so he can melt back into them.

He breathes a sigh of relief when the lights come up and he takes his place next to Harry, as usual.

When they tumble off the stage, Louis orchestrates a group hug that Zayn somehow manages to be in the middle of and he's yelling that he wants to get out but Louis and Harry keep him trapped and Liam's giggling but also holding onto Zayn's hand and trying to convey that he'll get Zayn out as soon as possible even as Louis is giving him a mock-threatening stare that he better not help Zayn before Louis is ready to release him.

Zayn ends up crawling out two minutes later and he collapses into a laughing Liam's side, glaring at Louis who just shrugs and tugs Niall and Harry along with him to the backstage area so they can scream a bit more about how they get to duet with Robbie.

When Liam and Zayn finally walk in, Zayn more chilled and Liam still grinning, a flash goes off and Liam realises that Harry's captured them yet again.

"You're a menace with that," Liam says mildly as Zayn gets tugged into Louis' lap for what Liam assumes is a belated apology and Liam tries to steal Harry's camera away from him but Harry's grip is surprisingly firm and Liam gives up, choosing to settle at Harry's feet instead and wrapping his arms around Harry's legs so that he can't move. He sees Harry's camera appear in front of him as Harry bends down to rest his head on Liam's shoulder and Harry snaps away, slapping at Liam's head when he looks at the pictures and realises that Liam's been pulling sulky faces the entire time.

"One nice one, please Liam?" Harry whines and Liam sighs but nods, drawing his photo smile out for Harry.

"No, a real smile Liam," Zayn calls, grinning as Liam glares across at him.

"Tickle him, Harry," Niall suggests and Liam groans two seconds before Harry's fingers dig into his waist and he's squirming to get away but his smile widens and Harry snaps away until he throws the camera to one side and dives down on top of Liam to incite a wrestling match. Liam easily wins, pinning a giggling Harry to the floor before they're being called to wardrobe to change for the next song.

When they fall offstage after the second song, Harry's hand is slipping into his even before they step into the darkness, tugging him straight into their room backstage where he folds him into his arms.

"My fucking voice," Liam murmurs, his hands making fists with the back of Harry's suit jacket.

"It was nothing," Harry says firmly. "Stop beating yourself up about it."

"Your voice on a bad day is still better than mine on a good day," Louis says as he walks in, ignoring everyone's protests as he ruffles Liam's hair, laughing as Liam automatically shies away before he remembers that Louis actually likes him and he's just trying to make Liam feel better.

"I bet no one even noticed," Niall says as he shoves Harry away and wraps his own arms around Liam.

"You'll knock everyone dead with Torn, mate," Zayn says as he slips his arm around Liam's waist and there's a three person hug in the middle of the room.

"You feeling left out as well, mate?" Louis asks Harry, who nods with a wicked smile before they both launch themselves at the cuddling boys.

By the time they've tickled Liam into submission, he's feeling better but it's not until he's back on stage, Harry to his left and Niall to his right and he's singing Torn like they're back at Simon's house that he feels okay.

It's even better than the first time they sang the song because not only is Louis singing this time and they're at full strength, but they're more cohesive as a group, more confident with each other. He almost forgets how his voice wobbled earlier. Almost.

Liam follows Niall down the stairs and towards their spot at the front of the stage to hear the judges' comments and he sees Harry coming up next to him. He lifts his arm and Harry wraps around him and falls into Liam, burying his head into Liam's neck and he gets it. He just wants to fall into Harry, into all of them and if they never do anything more after this moment, he thinks it might be enough because nothing could be this perfect.

Realistically, Liam thinks as he lies on his bed and stares up at the ceiling, they knew they wouldn't win. Deep down, they knew Matt was the favourite. But being told you've received the lowest votes to place third is still pretty shit. Simon has already insinuated that he'll be offering them a record deal in the New Year, and that's just insane, but tonight, he just wants to lie here and wonder whether he could have done anything more. Been anything more.

"I can hear you thinking," Zayn mumbles from across the room. "Shut up."

Liam smiles to himself and turns into the wall, burying himself under the covers. He knows it's corny to think of himself as a winner with the friends he's made, with the career they could still have, but it's still true, nonetheless. And he'll make sure the boys know it, always. Even if they groan and roll their eyes and throw things at him. Because he knows afterwards, when the cameras are off and no one else is around, Louis will pat his cheek and Zayn will nuzzle into his side and Niall will throw his arms around Liam in an enthusiastic bear hug. And Harry will snap a picture on his camera, give Liam one of those wide smiles that Liam thinks are the best things in the entire world, and he'll climb onto Liam's lap and fall asleep, asking Liam to tell him again how much Liam loves them all.

He spends Christmas at home and it's different somehow. He feels like he doesn't belong in Wolverhampton anymore, like his home is somewhere else. Which is crazy because this is his home and always has been, but perhaps it's time for him to look for somewhere in London. Maybe share with one of the boys, possibly.

He's had daily texts from all the lads and they've all expressed the same opinion - they need to move to London.

When Harry calls on Christmas Day to wish him a Merry Christmas, Liam brings the subject up, wondering how he can ask Harry what his plans are, whether he'd want to share with Liam.

"Oh yeah, I'm going to move in with Louis!" Harry says excitedly and Liam feels his stomach plummet. "We've got it all planned. Are you gonna move in with Niall or Zayn? Or all three of you?"

"Uh, I dunno," Liam says honestly because Harry had been his first choice. Was always his first choice, he was starting to realise, which came with thoughts that he wasn't ready to face yet. He pushed them away, like he did with most things he wasn't ready for. "Have a great Christmas, Harry. I'll see you in January, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry says but it seems quieter, almost a whisper. "Merry Christmas, Liam."

Liam's bouncing on the car seats as he heads into London for their meeting about actually being a real band in the real world that makes their own records that they'll sing themselves and travel the world (hopefully) and go on an actual tour. He's booked into a hotel with the rest of the boys and he's dying to see them, wants to reassure himself that their bond was real and not some trick of his imagination.

He's the last to arrive so when he's shown into Simon's offices, he's immediately brought down by four boys toppling onto him in excitement. He laughs, mostly at himself for doubting that what they have is true, before he's hugging them all in turn.

They're all talking over each other so when Harry slides into Liam's side and Liam wraps his arm around Harry, grinning at him happily, no one pays much attention. And when Harry leans his head on Liam's shoulder and whispers that he's missed him, only Liam hears. And when Harry slips his hand into Liam's and doesn't let go for the entire meeting, Liam holds on just as tightly as Simon discusses their schedule for the next few months.

When they walk out of the meeting, everyone is absolutely silent. By tacit agreement, they stay silent until they're ushered into their hotel rooms where Louis breaks the silence succinctly enough. "Fuck me."

"We're going to record in LA!" Niall shouts and it's pandemonium in the room as they fall around, play fighting and yelling and wondering how they'd gotten so lucky.

"It'll be hard work," Liam murmurs, more to himself than anyone else.

"It's all about the balance, Payno!" Louis shouted from across the room, and Liam wonders if Louis has supersonic hearing.

Harry launches himself from where he'd been bouncing around with Louis to leap onto Liam's back, laughing as Liam catches him easily enough and keeps him in place. "This is where it all begins, Liam," Harry says as he wraps his arms around Liam's neck and nuzzles into him. "This is where they'll say it all began. Where the biggest boyband in the world was created. This moment will be in all the history books and this hotel will have a plaque outside with our names on it and a date and people will come here on tours to look at where One Direction all began."

Liam can't help it, he bursts into giggles as Louis crows in agreement and Zayn just shakes his head as if he can't believe he's here doing this with these idiots.

"Bigger than the Beatles then, is that what you're aiming for Harry?" Liam asks through his laughter, feeling Harry laughing above him.

"We're going to take over the world, Liam," Harry shouts, raising his arms to the air and punching up. "You wait and see. With your work ethic and Louis' determination to make us the bestest mates in the world, we'll be unstoppable. Plus, there's always Zayn with his model good looks to smoulder at the camera and if all else fails, Niall will charm everyone into buying our stuff."

"And you, Harry?" Liam asks, curious as to how Harry sees his role in this stupidly ragtag boyband of theirs. "What are you going to bring?"

"Well, I'm obviously the voice, Liam," Harry says in a serious tone before he dissolves into giggles and Liam finds himself dragged to the floor by protesting bandmates who argue that _they_ are in fact, the voice of One Direction and Liam ends up protecting a laughing Harry from everyone else.

When Harry's dancing eyes look up and catch his, Liam isn't sure whether Harry is the voice of the band or not, but he's definitely got _something_ about him that no one else has.

And he mugs as badly as the others when Harry rummages for his camera and snaps the moment for his collection.

Halfway through the X Factor tour, Liam finds himself asleep in a hotel room with Harry draped across him. It's nothing unusual for them, except that it seems as if Harry can't fall asleep at all without Liam now because every night, he creeps into Liam's bed and Liam wakes up with an armful of boy across him and a dead arm from Harry sleeping on him. Liam doesn't mind, he doesn't mind at all because he likes being connected to Harry, but he wonders at it all the same.

They're almost insanely close now as a band, and there don't seem to be any boundaries between them. Liam watched in LA as Louis decided to start branding them with lovebites that Liam thought was stupid and weird, but now when Louis leans over and sucks on his neck, he just arches a little so he can continue his conversation or carry on watching telly or whatever he's been doing. Once Louis decides to latch on, they've all discovered, then he's impossible to get off. Liam still thinks it's weird, but he's accepted it as just one of those things.

Harry's snapped a hundred pictures or so of their lovebites at various stages because he thinks they're kind of beautiful. He's even snapped Zayn with a lovebite and Louis standing next to him with two thumbs up, like a proud tourist or something. Harry's already confided to Liam that he plans to give Zayn a blown up print of the photo for Christmas. Liam thinks he'll pretend to hate it but display it in his kitchen anyway.

But lovebites are definitely a Louis thing. Or Liam thought they were, until he's dozing, curling his hand around Harry to keep him close because he's grown used to cuddling Harry as well, and he feels Harry's lips press against his neck.

"Morning. Liam's voice is hoarse and sleep-hewn. He keeps his eyes half-closed because touches and kisses and caresses are just something he's used to now.

When Harry's teeth bite down gently on Liam's neck, he's so used to the sensation from Louis that Liam barely flinches, just hums gently and pulls Harry closer, feels Harry entwine his legs with Liam's as he sucks a little harder.

A low moan escapes from Liam's lips as Harry's tongue touches the forming bruise, his lips still pressed against Liam and he freezes, eyes flying open as he looks down at Harry. Harry doesn't stop, but his hands slide across the bed until he tangles them with Liam's, and he holds on tight as he presses tiny kisses against Liam's neck.

Liam moans again but this time he doesn't look down, just closes his eyes and lets Harry continue, their hands clasped together and Liam's body tensing involuntarily as he lets himself enjoy Harry's mouth on his skin.

When Harry finally lifts his head to study his handiwork, he smiles to himself before he looks up at a dazed Liam. Harry drifts down to press a lazy kiss against Liam's lips before he falls back onto Liam's chest. "Morning."

When Louis spots the monstrosity that Harry's left on Liam's neck, he stares in amazement before Liam catches him sharing a look with Zayn that Liam can't decipher.

"Harry's been picking up your bad habits," Liam says lightly as they line up for sound-check.

"Doesn't look like that's all he's picked up," Louis says with a wicked grin before he jumps on Liam's back and Liam's too busy defending himself against Louis' seeking hands to remember the conversation.

The lovebite fades, much to Louis' disappointment. They're in an interview when Liam sees Louis lunge for him and he feels the sharp bite of Louis' teeth against his skin. With a sigh, he just shrugs at the shocked interviewer and continues answering the question. When Louis comes up for air, Liam just gives him a mildly reproachful look before his gaze swings over to Harry, who seems to be watching the interview intently.

The next morning, Liam wakes up to find Harry in bed with him again, as usual. It takes him a second to realise that Harry's sucking a lovebite onto Liam's chest, his hands clamped around Liam's biceps as he nips and sucks. Combined with the feel of Harry hot and heavy on top of him, Liam can't help the whimper he makes, his body enjoying Harry's ministrations. He sees Harry's eyes fly up to lock onto his, green eyes twinkling up at him and he closes his eyes to break the connection. But he can't help squirming a little as Harry continues to lick the bruise or the way his hands reach up to press against Harry's sides.

Again Harry reaches up to press a kiss against Liam's mouth before dropping back onto Liam's chest, where he blows across the bruise and Liam shivers uncontrollably.

It's not until much later, when he thinks he's in control of himself, that he quietly asks Harry why he left a lovebite on his chest where no one can see it.

"It's our little secret," Harry says seriously, green eyes staring at Liam like he's trying to pass on a message that Liam doesn't yet understand. "I'll see it. You can see it. It's ours, yeah?"

Liam nods like he understands and wonders if he'll ever understand Harry.

Every morning, he wakes up to Harry either giving him a lovebite or examining the ones he's left across Liam's chest, shoulder blades or neck, pressing down and kissing them carefully. Neither of them talk about how Liam moans desperately as Harry sucks on his skin. Neither of them talk about how often Harry's hand trails across Liam's skin during the day or how Harry now just climbs into bed with Liam before they drop off to sleep, spooning or cuddling.

Or how Liam pretends to be asleep when Harry wakes up and takes pictures of Liam's chest when he's particularly pleased with one of his efforts.

It's not that Liam doesn't see the looks the rest of the band give him and Harry. He just chooses to ignore them, because as far as he's concerned, he and Harry don't do anything the rest of the band don't do as well. He's caught Niall sleeping on everyone, including himself. Louis hands out lovebites as freely as he does hugs or slaps. Niall slips his hand into whoever's is nearest whenever they're in public and he's feeling overwhelmed.

When the X Factor tour finishes, they seem to be endlessly flying between LA, Sweden and the UK. Mostly they rely on other people to remind them where they are and what the time difference is for when they call home.

Liam pushes hard, knowing that this first album could be their last if it doesn't sell. Louis pushes back just as hard, determined that they will all enjoy every moment of the process, even if it kills him. Tensions run high until Liam walks out of rehearsals after Louis giggles through one too many takes after distracting Harry, knowing that he has to leave or he'll lose his temper. He's let out to walk around London for an hour, cooling off long enough to rationalise that he's the one postponing everything now, not Louis, and he and Louis need to work on their communication skills before one of them swings for the other. When he's calm, he can appreciate how much they need Louis, not only to let off steam and stay together, but because Louis is surprisingly good at dealing with management.

He slips into his hotel room, certain that rehearsals will have ended by now and hits the shower, feeling better as the hot spray eases his aching muscles, relaxing them as he stands there for what feels like forever.

Liam wraps a towel around his waist and steps out of the bathroom, hearing a knock at the door.

"Liam?"

He takes a deep breath as he steps up to the door, but keeps it closed. "I'm fine, Zayn. I just need some sleep. I'll be okay for tomorrow, yeah?"

"Okay mate," Zayn calls back. "Call me if you need me."

"Yeah," Liam says back, reaching out to touch the door before smiling wryly at his own corniness. "Sorry about earlier."

"Don't worry about it," Zayn says firmly. "Just get some sleep, yeah?"

Liam doesn't reply, just walks back into the room and throws the towel down before slipping into his pyjama bottoms and sliding into bed. He checks his phone, sees he's got a text from Louis that simply reads ' **Alright Payno?** ' and he shoots one back, ' **Yeah mate, sorry bout earlierrrr will be okay tomoroooo!** ' and hopes that's enough for now.

With the telly playing quietly in the background, he slips into a doze, only awakened when he feels Harry slip into bed with him. Liam snuggles closer, still half-asleep but craving _something_. Harry's arms pull him nearer and for once Liam is being cuddled by Harry, and sleepy Liam likes it a lot. He lets his hand drift onto Harry's hip, snuffling as he nuzzles into Harry's neck. Liam throws his leg over Harry's and shuffles as closely as he can get, sighing happily when he's finally comfortable.

His lips caress Harry's neck, almost by accident. Even only half-awake, Liam can feel Harry's arms tighten slightly and he feels a bit brave, a bit reckless and a bit like he can blame it all on being drowsy and confused. So he does something he's been aching to do for a few weeks now and he kisses Harry's neck. His skin is warm and soft and Liam isn't being pushed away, so he lets his tongue dart out and he licks Harry very gently and slowly, and he knows he doesn't imagine the shiver running through Harry's body.

His lips brush against heated skin while his thumb moves in a circular motion over Harry's hip. He feels Harry squirm a little next to him and he smiles, his lips curving up before he reaches up to cup Harry's cheek gently, turning his face slowly so Liam can look up through his dark lashes to see him.

"Feeling better?" Harry asks huskily, turning onto his side and shifting down so that they're face to face.

Liam just hums, but his gaze is locked onto Harry's lips. He's beyond pretending to be sleepy anymore and he feels like his body is on fire.

Harry seems to hesitate before he leans forward and licks his lips, wetting them under Liam's rapt stare before he presses against Liam's lips. It's a chaste kiss that has Liam closing his eyes and wishing for more.

When Harry pulls back, Liam keeps his eyes shut, trying not to be disappointed. He vaguely wonders whether it's possible to just wake up in the morning and pretend this hasn't happened.

He wonders if he's ruined everything.

Liam feels breath against his cheek before he feels the pressure of Harry's lips against his again, and his breath hitches in relief. Harry's lips are moving softly against his and Liam opens his mouth, almost freezing in panic for a split-second before Harry kisses him properly. Liam's hands slide up to grasp Harry's arms, needing to hold onto something solid while Harry teases his lips and drives him crazy. Their legs entangle as Harry reaches up to cup Liam's face and Liam realises he's not the only one who is a little shaky.

Liam lets out a little moan as Harry's tongue teases its way into Liam's mouth and he can feel Harry's smile against his mouth. Feeling a rush of adrenaline shooting through him, Liam presses Harry back against the bed and slides over him, pinning him gently while he attacks his mouth, feeling Harry's hands roaming around his body and he nips at Harry's bottom lip, sucking hard until he hears Harry whimper underneath him.

It's Liam's turn to smile against Harry's mouth, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips before he pulls back and flops down onto Harry's chest, breathing a little harder and closing his eyes because that was not a friendly kiss. Not even close.

Harry's hands rest on his back and stroke soothingly. Liam can feel Harry's breathing even out and when he looks up, Harry's fast asleep. He stares in disbelief before he lets out a little chuckle and shifts so that he's curled up to Harry's side. He kisses Harry's shoulder once before he closes his eyes and wonders what the hell is going to happen when they wake up.

As it turns out, very little happens. Liam wakes up first, a slow. gradual awareness seeping through his body until he remembers very vividly what happened the night before. He holds his breath, as if Harry could wake up from the slightest movement even though he's well aware that Harry can sleep through almost anything. Except Liam's hand stroking his back, apparently, as that's what has Harry blinking into consciousness. Liam's not even aware he's been doing it, but Harry's back was just there and it felt so smooth and for some reason Liam can't seem to keep his hands to himself anymore.

"Morning," Harry mumbles in that morning voice that Liam knows so well.

"Hey," Liam says quietly, his hand pausing on Harry's back as he waits tentatively for Harry to remember the night before.

"We've got more recording today, yeah?" Harry asks as his breath tickles Liam's chest and he grimaces at how lovely this all is.

"Yeah, we need to be ready in 20 minutes." Liam's already checked the clock, knows that of all of them, him and Harry are always the quickest to get ready. They can do it in an even six minutes if necessary.

"I need to jump in the shower," Harry says, finally pulling himself up to rest on his elbows. He smiles down at Liam, lowers himself until he brushes a whisper of a kiss against Liam's still lips and slips out of bed. He hears the front door open and close quietly and then he's alone with just his thoughts.

Everything's just too confusing for Liam to sort out this early in the morning. He hits the showers and dresses quickly, heading downstairs to grab a piece of toast from the restaurant before he slumps down next to a tired-looking Louis, letting his head rest on his shoulder and grumbling as Louis pokes him in the side in greeting.

"It'll be at least another half hour before Zayn gets up," Louis mumbles as he slips his arm around Liam's shoulders and pulls him in closer so that they're properly snuggling in the hotel lobby. Liam's too tired and too confused and too emotional to care, so he cuddles into the older boy and lets himself drift off.

He wakes up to Harry pulling him up and he lets Harry guide him to the car, settles his head on Harry's shoulder as they travel the short distance to the recording studio and he thinks the fog will clear from his head sometime around the first recording session.

Except it doesn't and he spends most of the day sleeping on some surface or other until he gets sent back to the hotel with orders to get a good night's sleep.

He feels guilty because Liam knows he's not ill. He just wants to close his eyes and be in a less confusing time and place.

He's barely been in bed for half an hour when the door opens and Liam knows it's Harry.

"Liam?" Liam shifts and opens his eyes, finding Harry staring down at him, looking concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah mate," he says, biting his lip as he closes his eyes because sometimes, looking at Harry is just too much. "Just tired."

"Do you want me to - uh, sleep in my room?" Harry asks hesitantly, and Liam knows he probably should say yes. He can't bring himself to say no though either so he just shakes his head and hopes that it's enough.

He doesn't hear anything for a second, then there's the sound of Harry moving around the room until he finally feels the bed sink as Harry crawls in next to him and Liam has to stop himself from sighing in relief.

Harry tugs at him until Liam's lying half across him and he feels Harry press a kiss against his head. A warm feeling floods through him as it occurs to him that if Harry hasn't left yet, then he's probably not going to, and Liam's fears subside long enough for him to fall asleep to the sound of Harry's slow breathing.

And so it goes. Liam and Harry spend their nights together in bed, sharing brief kisses and sometimes longer ones that leave them both panting and breathless. It never progresses though and they never, ever talk about it. The rest of the band remain oblivious, although Louis still looks at them sometimes, when Harry's wrapped around Liam like he doesn't want to share him or when Liam rests his head on Harry's shoulder and traces patterns on Harry's thigh through his jeans.

One evening when it's just the two of them watching a movie in Louis' room, Louis tries to talk to Liam about what he's termed the situation.

"Do you want to talk about you and Harry then mate?" Louis asks before shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Liam watches as a few kernels fall out and he grimaces when Louis just picks them up and shoves them back in.

But he doesn't try and pretend that he doesn't know what Louis' getting at. "Just mates, Louis. Just mates."

"Who share a bed every night and touch all the time and don't think we haven't all seen those gloriously possessive lovebites on your chest that I know I'm not responsible for," Louis says, somewhat quietly for him.

"Harry just likes to mess with me, same as you," Liam says as he throws a kernel of popcorn into his mouth.

"It's not the same as me, and if you can't see that Liam Payne, then you're slower on the uptake than I thought," Louis says firmly, turned to pin him down with his stern gaze.

Liam's glance flickers away because he knows it's different, but he can't tell Louis that. He can't even speak to Harry about it. He barely understands it himself.

"Liam, are you gay?" Louis asks bluntly and Liam's gaze snaps back to his bandmate. Louis is staring at him but it's with curiosity and fondness, not the judgement and disgust that Liam was fearing, for some crazy reason.

"I don't know," is Liam's honest answer. "Before all this, I would have said no."

"And now?" Louis prompts, moving a little closer and slipping his arm around Liam to draw him in. Liam takes two seconds to appreciate how far they've come, that this is _Louis_ that he's confiding in.

"And now there's .... there's Harry," Liam mumbles as he ducks his head into Louis' shoulder as if he can hide away from the words, from the feelings.

Louis just strokes his back comfortingly. Liam can feel the difference between his bandmates so clearly in that moment. When Louis strokes his back, Liam feels safe and soothed and like he can fall asleep and it'll all be okay in the morning. When Harry strokes his back, Liam's body feels like it's on fire and it makes him want to press closer, to get as close to Harry as he can so he can meld into Harry somehow. His body feels more alive when Harry's touching him and he feels invincible. Or if he's half asleep, he'll seek Harry's warmth in his unconscious state, wriggling closer and draping himself across Harry.

"He's a menace, all right," Louis says with a fond twist of his lips and Liam laughs a little into Louis' warm, soft jumper. "He keeps stealing my beanies."

"Yeah, he borrowed my favourite hoodie and I haven't been able to get it off him since," Liam says as he lifts his head and moves back, reaching for the popcorn as if he hasn't just made a declaration of sorts that will probably change his entire life, one way or another.

Louis just hums and shoots him a look that suggests Liam really might be even slower than Louis thought he was. Liam files it away for later.

On the day their debut single releases, Liam's woken up to Harry shaking him excitedly, his green eyes flashing and his dimples on full display. Liam reaches up to cup Harry's jaw, bringing him down for a kiss that calms Harry.

"Today we'll know, Liam," Harry says finally when he pulls back, his voice low and a little shaky. "We'll know if this is going to work or not."

Liam's just as nervous, but it's become his job to be the strong, confident one for them. For Harry. "It's going to work, Harry. We're going to take over the world, remember?"

Harry laughs but it's small and doesn't sound quite right. Desperate to erase the worry from Harry's face, Liam pulls him down and smothers him in kisses until Harry's giggling properly and wriggling in a vain attempt to escape.

"You're an idiot," Harry says fondly when Liam finally lets him go. Liam just widens his eyes for a second and grins at him. "I need a picture."

Liam groans but he's used to this by now, used to how often Harry says he needs a picture.

"Do it again, exactly the same," Harry says, camera poised and ready.

But Liam isn't an actor, he can't recreate expressions on command. So Harry crawls up the bed and calls him an idiot again, straddling Liam's waist as he aims the camera. Harry grins when he manages to get the picture he wants before putting the camera carefully on the table and reaching down to kiss Liam, humming happily as Liam puts his hands on Harry's thighs and squeezes gently.

When Harry pushes a little harder and licks into Liam's mouth, Liam lets one of his hands slide up Harry's body to cup his jaw and keep him there because today could be a milestone in their career and there was nobody Liam wanted to spend it with more and he can't think of a better way to start the day than by kissing Harry Styles. And part of him wants to push a little harder, see if he can get Harry writhing underneath him, because as much as he loves kissing Harry, Liam's starting to feel like he needs more. Today, he's feeling brave and stupid.

Liam can feel Harry's arms tightening around him and he feels himself falling, sinking into the taste and feel of Harry until Harry falls limp around him and he's clinging to Liam, making soft whimpering noises that make Liam's heart soar as he tries to draw out each noise for as long as possible. His mouth is insistent on Harry's, forcing through the moment when one of them usual pulls back, tangling his tongue with Harry's as the kiss turns sloppy and wet. Liam brings his other hand up so that he can cup Harry's face and keep him exactly where he wants him, which is in Liam's arms and desperate. Liam's certain that he's never felt the rush of emotions that flood through his body as Harry writhes over him, seeking something from Liam.

Trembling, knowing that he's about to push them all the way over into inappropriate bandmate behaviour, Liam grasps Harry's hips carefully, opening his eyes to find Harry staring back at him and Liam freezes as he takes in how beautiful Harry looks. From his bruised, puffy pink lips to his wide green eyes, flushed cheeks and wrecked hair that Liam thinks his hands are responsible for, he looks perfect.

It drives Liam on to push Harry down slightly until he's straddling Liam's hips and he pushes up, no longer worrying about the consequences because he just needs to grind against Harry and find some damn friction for his achingly hard cock. When he hears Harry gasp, he just thrusts up again, catching Harry in his arms as he falls forward and stretches out so that he can rub against Liam. Liam helps Harry to move, grinding down against each other and he watches as Harry's face twists with pleasure, biting his already puffy bottom lip as he strains against Liam, their cocks rubbing against each other with the most delicious friction.

Liam can't bear to watch Harry bite through his lip anymore, reaching up to kiss him and groaning as Harry latches onto his mouth like he's starving for it, weakly kissing Liam as he gets closer to orgasm.

Feeling giddy and weak himself, Liam licks into Harry's mouth carefully. "Come on, Harry, come for me," he murmurs, hardly believing the words coming out of his mouth.

It's all Harry needs to hear though as he comes through his boxers, a little cry of relief as he slumps down onto Liam's chest like he's lost all his strength.

Aching and trembling, Liam tries to shift Harry so he can at least get a hand on himself but Harry lifts his head and with closed eyes, surges up to smash his lips against Liam's. Liam rocks his hips up, wincing as he hears Harry groan as he's probably sensitive as hell but when Liam tries to move away, Harry's fingers are like a steel vice on his shoulders.

"Your turn," he breathes and Liam feels himself tense and start to shake. He rocks up again and again, closing his eyes and letting the sensation of Harry rubbing against him build up until he's letting out a low groan and coming hard, falling back against the bed panting and flushed, Harry slumped and heavy on top of him.

While he's trying to return his breathing back to normal, Liam's mind races as he tries to reason out what just happened. He's not sorry, he knows that much.

"You think too much," Harry mumbles and Liam's so deliriously endeared by this boy lying on him that he just laughs, quick and deep, before he drifts off into a peaceful doze, one hand buried in Harry's curls, the other firmly on Harry's hip.

Of course, they don't talk about it. It also doesn't happen again, much to Liam's disappointment. He wakes up every morning hard as a rock but slips away to the shower to quickly sort himself out before Harry even wakes up. But while Liam's always expecting awkwardness between them, it never happens. Harry shoots him little looks with happy smiles that ease the burden Liam feels like he's carrying around all the time. He also touches Liam whenever possible, something that Liam encourages silently, tugging on Harry to sit on his lap during interviews or rehearsals when they're not needed.

What Makes You Beautiful goes to number one and Liam fights down the dangerous urge to kiss Harry when it's revealed, burying himself into Zayn's side instead, curling his hand around Zayn's waist and feeling Niall fall into both of them as they whoop and cheer.

"This is actually happening," Zayn whispers, slightly in shock.

Liam grins up at him as Niall hangs off both of them. "Yeah, it's absolutely real, Zee."

"Yeah," Zayn's eyes are alight with pride and happiness and Liam can't help but fall a little bit in love with him right then and there. The same way he falls a little bit in love with Niall as he gazes up at Liam with absolute happiness and a tiny twinge of fear that Liam recognises so well. He curls his arm around Niall and hugs him tightly, breathing in slowly as Niall hugs him back with full force.

He's been a bit in love with Louis for a while now obviously, with his sharp wit and willingness to do anything for a laugh, while quietly working with management on the best way to market them all and how to prevent them from being exploited, even just a little bit.

And when he and Harry end up back at Louis and Harry's apartment after hitting the club for a celebration, where Liam has spent most nights without Louis really raising an eyebrow anymore, and he races into Harry's bedroom laughing and cheering, going silent when he finds himself crowded up against the door as Harry throws it closed behind them and pushes Liam back, kissing him hard and deep, Liam knows he's more than a little bit in love with Harry as well.

"Don't forget to take a picture," Liam says against Harry's mouth as his chest tightens and he realises what he's admitting to himself, here in Harry's bedroom, away from the rest of the band and alone with just the two of them.

"I took loads at the station," Harry protests as he trails kisses down Liam's neck before biting his collarbone gently, grinning as Liam lets out a low moan.

"One of just us, yeah?" Liam pleads a little desperately. He needs a memory of this moment that he can keep forever.

Groaning as he steps away from Liam, shooting him a glare of disapproval at the interruption, Harry grabs his camera and settles himself in front of Liam, his back against Liam's chest and Liam's hands possessive on his hips.

"Smile, Liam," Harry orders bossily as he mugs for the camera. Except Liam's not looking at the camera, he's looking straight at Harry. When Harry sees the picture later, he doesn't complain about Liam ruining the shot for once, just smiling to himself as he puts the camera away.

They spend the rest of the evening lying in Harry's bed, sometimes talking but mostly just watching each other and laughing quietly, playing with each other's hands. Liam thinks he could do this forever, even while he's waiting for it to all come crashing down around him.

It's Christmas Eve and it's Louis' birthday, so they're all piled into Louis and Harry's apartment before they head out for the evening. Liam's got a car booked to take him home to Wolverhampton at midnight, Louis has the same for Doncaster and Harry has one for Holmes Chapel. Zayn isn't hitting the club so he's going back to Bradford after their pre-club party and Niall is catching a flight home to Mullingar in three hours so he's not hitting the club either.

Harry's busy snapping pictures as Louis opens each gift, while everyone's mocking each other for how terrible their presents are. It began with Zayn's birthday where no one knew what to buy and Zayn ended up with two identical Arctic Monkey CDs, a scarf and chocolate. The presents hadn't gotten any better throughout the year and Louis was currently teasing Niall for the Nando's voucher he'd just unwrapped.

"We're officially terrible at presents," Harry says with a shake of his head, laughing as Niall pouts and argues that he'd love a Nando's voucher and if Louis didn't want it, Niall would take it back. Louis slips it into his pocket as he fends Niall off and they end up play fighting on the floor while Harry takes another picture, grinning over at Liam when he's caught them at just the right angle.

"Are you two ever going to get it together?" Zayn asks quietly from behind him.

Liam spins around and twists his mouth into a semblance of a smile. It's a conversation he's had over and over again with Zayn and Louis at various times over the past few months, but it always ends with Liam telling them that whatever he and Harry are, they're happy with it and it works for them. He's just about to say it again for the hundredth time, when Zayn lifts up his hand to stop him.

"Yeah, I know, you're happy," Zayn softens his tone with a smile before his gaze darts across to Harry and back to Liam. "But what if you could be happier? What if you could have a real relationship and you knew exactly where you stood and where he stood? What if you could take him home and introduce him to your parents not as your bandmate, but your boyfriend?"

Liam just stares blankly at Zayn for a moment before he shakes his head and his expression clears. "If Harry wanted that, any of that, we'd have been dating months ago," he says and tries to keep the sadness out of his voice. "Just let it go, Zayn. Please."

Zayn looks like he wants to disagree, but something in Liam's face stops him and he just reaches out to pat Liam's arm before heading over to break up the scuffle between Louis and Niall.

"Hey, you alright?" Harry appears at Liam's side and gives him a questioning look. "Looked serious between you and Zayn for a moment."

"Nah, it was nothing," Liam brushes it off and forces himself back to cheerful. "Shall we open our Christmas presents? I can't wait to find out if I've got a Nando's gift card from someone!"

Louis finds that far funnier than he should and Niall glares at Liam before Zayn shoves Niall away from Louis to prevent any further disruptions. "You've got a plane to catch, you idiot. Let's open our presents."

They all launch into their presents, laughing when they all hold up matching Nando's cards and Niall gets properly annoyed, which lasts approximately two seconds before Louis starts tickling him and Zayn suggests they all use their cards together in the New Year and Niall laughs like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard while simultaneously trying to call out dates so he can fix a time in his diary for their Nando's date.

In amongst the mess and the delight from Zayn as he and Louis pour over the comic books Liam bought them, Liam hands Harry his present, a shy smile on his lips. It's the first present he's given Harry since they've become whatever it is that they are to each other and he's nervous.

Harry opens it slowly, as he does most things, and Liam's anxiety grows with every glance Harry throws at him from under his lashes as he carefully unwraps the present.

Liam's not concerned with anything except the growing smile that appears on Harry's face, the way he lights up as he shakes the present free from the wrapping paper that Liam had hurriedly wrapped it in two days ago, cursing as he got more sellotape on himself than the paper.

"I thought you'd like your own one," Liam says quietly as Harry studies it carefully. "Since you like mine so much."

It's a bright blue hoodie, carefully chosen in Liam's size rather than Harry's slightly smaller size, since Liam happens to think that Harry looks adorable in a slightly oversized jumper.

"Thanks Liam," Harry says and he finally looks at him, hugging the hoodie into himself. "I love it."

Liam gives a huge sigh of relief and beams at Harry, who's still watching him with bright eyes. Before Liam knows what's hit him, he's got an armful of Harry sprawled across him and plastering giggling kisses across his face. Liam laughs as he brushes Harry's hair back from his face, tempted to tickle him but resisting, just this once.

"Will you take it home over Christmas and wear it?" Harry asks quietly, so quietly that Liam can barely hear him.

"What? It's your present, Harry," Liam says, utterly confused. "Don't you like it?"

"I love it," Harry murmurs into Liam's ear. "But I love wearing your hoodie because it smells like you."

Sometimes, Liam knows, he's slow to understand things. Louis tells him often enough and Harry gives him enough looks to make Liam feel like he's missing something vital. Even Zayn rolls his eyes in exasperation sometimes when Liam's not getting the joke. He thinks perhaps this is one of those times where he's taken his time to get to the point Harry's been trying to make.

"Yeah, I'll wear it every day," Liam promises as his fingers bury into Harry's hair and he kisses Harry softly. Carefully.

When Harry makes a little noise, Liam slides his hand down to press against his back and Harry arches towards him.

They both freeze when they hear three loud coughs at once.

"We don't mean to interrupt, but perhaps you'll forgive us as there seems to be an issue at hand," Louis says formally.

Harry pulls back and stares down at Liam, both wearing identical expressions that somehow encompass panic, fear, horror, hilarity and relief.

"It's not like we haven't seen that there's something going on between you or something," Zayn says when the silence stretches out into the room.

"But you've never like, kissed in front of us before," Niall points out.

"It's like I've had another Christmas present," Louis cries dramatically with a little sob at the end, waving his arms around wildly before he turns serious. "But yeah, is this something we need to discuss?"

"I think, um, perhaps Liam and I need to discuss it first, Lou," Harry says finally, still watching Liam carefully from where he's pinned beneath Harry, seemingly unable to move.

"Wait, have you two not discussed this?" Niall asks incredulously.

"You realise you're talking about these two idiots, right?" Louis interjects. "Liam's slower than a turtle when it comes to this stuff and Harry moves at the speed of a puddle at the best of times."

"Fair point," Niall allows but Liam and Harry aren't exactly listening to them.

"We should, uh, go on a date," Liam says slowly, letting his voice drop until he hopes only Harry can hear him. He bites his lip worriedly, aware that if Harry says no then it's not just the humiliation of being rejected in front of the rest of the band that he's facing, but also definite heartbreak and perhaps a failed solo career when he's forced to leave the band to avoid Harry.

Except that Harry's smiling widely and Liam's fixated by his dimples, as always and he thinks Harry's saying okay but he's not sure because all he can hear is blood rushing to his head but Harry's kissing him again and perhaps it's all turned out alright while Liam zoned out there for a moment.

They separate to say their goodbyes to Zayn and Niall, with Zayn whispering his congratulations to Liam as they hug and Liam flashing him a grateful smile as the three of them wave their boys off home.

"Well, don't I feel like a spare part?" Louis mutters as he turns to face his friends, who both look a little sheepish. "And it's my birthday. Your timing sucks, lads."

"Sorry Lou," Harry says as he wraps his arms around Louis in apology. "We'll be good from now on, won't we Liam?"

"It's all about you tonight, Louis, I promise," Liam says as he ruffles Louis' hair, amused when Louis continues to pout.

"Come on Lou," Harry pleads. "It's your birthday and it's almost Christmas and you'll be home in like, five hours."

"Fine," Louis says grumpily. "But you two need to go back to being just bandmates for the night, okay?"

"Well yeah, we'll be in public," Liam says as if Louis is being silly. And perhaps he is, just a little.

"Just remember that you two kissed not 10 minutes ago on that couch, completely forgetting everyone else was in the room," Louis says and Liam thinks that Louis is trying to give them a warning. It's a fair admonition, Liam realises. The worst thing he and Harry can do is give anyone any inkling that they're anything other than friends.

"We'll behave Lou, I promise," Liam says earnestly and he sees Harry nod his head in agreement.

Liam won't pretend it's not tough, sitting with Harry all night and not touching him or kissing him, not really looking at him because it's too hard to remember why he can't do all those things when Harry looks at him with those eyes of his and a smile dancing on his lips. So Liam finds it easier not to look at him at all.

Louis is absolutely smashed and they call the car a bit early for him, laughing as they stand on the pavement and wave him goodbye, even though he's probably already passed out on the backseat.

Liam finally glances at Harry, who's glancing at him and they dissolve into giggles, falling back against the wall but still not touching because anyone could have a phone or be a pap in disguise. And while they're not that famous yet, their faces are well-known enough to cause a stir if they're seen.

"Have fun at home, yeah?" Liam says finally as they sober up and stare at each other.

"You too," Harry echoes the sentiment quietly. "You'll call me, right?"

"Course I will," Liam says as if it's a foregone conclusion. "Every day if you want me to."

Harry's smile is slow and magnetic. "Yeah."

"Okay then," Liam whispers as he watches the cars pull up. A glance at his watch has him pulling Harry towards him for a hug. "Merry Christmas, Harry."

"Merry Christmas, Liam," Harry steps back and briefly touches Liam's face before his hand is back at his side and it's almost like the moment never happened.

With a wry smile, Liam climbs into the back of the car and closes his eyes, tension stiffening his body as he thinks about how long it'll be before he'll see Harry again. His eyes fly open when he feels the door open and close and he's being knocked back against the seat, Harry's lips attacking him. He pulls Harry over him, desperation taking over.

"I'll miss you," he mutters against Harry's mouth and he hears Harry groan before repeating the sentiment for Liam.

When they finally separate, Liam feels a lot calmer and he presses tiny kisses against Harry's closed eyelids and his cheeks and finally his mouth. "We really need to talk."

"Talking is overrated," Harry teases a little sadly before he sighs and climbs out of the car, waving once more before the door closes and Liam's left alone, wondering when exactly he started to hate being alone.

He reaches down and searches through the bag he handed over before they left the apartment earlier, pulling out the hoodie he bought for Harry and tugging it over his head before curling up and falling asleep, his arms wrapped around himself.

He enjoys being at home, seeing his family and friends for the longest period of time since last Christmas. But he misses the boys and grins every time he gets a text from one of them, which happens far more frequently than he thinks it should, considering they've been living in each other's pockets for the past year.

He calls Harry every night before he goes to bed. The calls are mostly impersonal chats about what they've done that day and how they can't wait to get back to London. But on the third day, Harry confesses that he's having trouble sleeping, so Liam tells him to put his phone on speaker and he'll talk until Harry falls asleep. It seems to work and Liam ends up doing it a few more times before the break is over and they're heading back down south.

He's the last one at the hotel in Bournemouth again and he's buried beneath the boys as he steps into Niall's room where they're all gathered. Laughing, he tries to catch up with everyone from underneath the bundle, making sure everyone enjoyed their Christmases and New Years. He feels a familiar hand slip into his and he whips his head around to grin stupidly at Harry, who's wearing a similar expression. Liam continues his three conversations at once but his smile slips to a frown when he sees how tired and pale Harry looks.

"What's wrong?" he manages to ask as the boys descend into roughhousing, giving them a moment to speak.

"Tired," Harry says simply and Liam can see it clearly in his eyes.

"Come on," Liam tugs him out of the room and heads for his own, throwing his suitcase and bags down as he pulls Harry to the bed and sits him down. He yanks off Harry's boots and kicks his own off before he lifts the covers and pushes Harry back, scooting in next to him and wrapping himself around Harry's body. "Let's have a nap."

"I do love a nap," Harry murmurs, already half-asleep as he nuzzles closer.

Liam hushes him, stroking his hair back gently until he hears even breathing and feels Harry completely relaxed around him. He takes a second to watch him, smiling as he shakes his head at how crazy this all is and wondering how much Harry really needs him before he slips out and heads back to Niall's room.

He falls onto the bed next to Zayn and shrugs as they stare at him. "He was tired. Needed to get some rest."

"So what's going on with you two?" Niall asks, untangling himself from Louis and rolling onto his stomach to stare up at Liam. "Are you dating?"

"We haven't talked since uh, Christmas Eve," Liam says, closing his eyes so he doesn't have to face them. "Wanted to do it face to face but today's the first time I've seen Harry since Lou's birthday."

"Well, whatever you decide, we support it," Louis says firmly, his eyes fierce on Liam as he opens an eye to look at Louis. "Whatever you need."

"Thanks man," Liam says sincerely before he closes his eyes and leans against Zayn. "It'll probably get really complicated."

"Yeah, probably," Zayn murmurs as he reaches down to squeeze Liam's hand gently in support. "We'll figure it out."

Harry sleeps throughout the night, barely waking at all. Then they're thrown into touring and they can't seem to manage to get an hour to themselves to talk, because they're either on stage or rehearsing or travelling to the next venue or making an appearance. And by the time they fall into bed, they're too shattered to talk.

After their final Belfast tour date, Liam rushes them through their routine and gets them back to their room in record time. Laughing, Harry jumps in the shower first, managing to keep it to under four minutes. He's still laughing to himself when Liam showers in under three minutes before he crawls into bed and cuddles up to Harry.

"Hey," Harry says as he turns into Liam and nudges his leg between Liam's. He weaves his arm around Liam's waist and looks up at Liam, who just looks tired.

"Hi," Liam murmurs back, his eyes already drooping.

"Can't go to sleep yet, Liam," Harry urges him, shaking Liam just a little to force him to open his eyes.

" Tyrant," Liam mutters but he blinks himself awake. "What's up?"

"It's my birthday next Wednesday," Harry says slowly. "I thought perhaps we could go on our first date."

Liam's wide awake now. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry says a little shyly. "We've waited long enough, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Liam says and he puts a wealth of feeling behind the word that makes Harry grin. "What do you want to do?"

"Well, _you're_ the one who invited me on a date, Liam James Payne," Harry points out, reaching up to smooth Liam's furrowed brow. "And it will be _my_ birthday."

"Yeah, yeah," Liam murmurs more to himself. After a year of not really having to put any effort into whatever they were doing together, Liam's suddenly frozen with fear of having to impress Harry. He knows Harry likes fancy dinners and dressing nicely, while Liam's more comfortable in sweats and eating takeaway.

He needs to call his mum or speak to Louis or something. He needs to talk to someone who has more experience with dating, because Liam is clueless. Absolutely clueless.

"You've got six days, Liam," Harry says as he closes his eyes and snuggles under the covers. "No pressure."

Tired as he is, Liam stays awake half the night worrying about how he's going to utterly fail Harry on their first date and how there's a strong possibility that he'll ruin Harry's birthday as well.

They have a light week for once, and Liam's able to grab five minutes to place an urgent call to his mother, who suggests that he takes Harry to dinner and a movie. Liam thinks that's fairly easy, until he remembers that it's probably not a good idea for Liam Payne of One Direction to take Harry Styles, also of One Direction, on a romantic dinner date out in public.

Louis suggests bowling, before he remembers that last time they all went bowling Harry tripped over his own feet, dropping the bowling ball he was carrying and almost breaking the floor.

In the end, after days of worrying and Harry giving him odd looks but keeping quiet, Liam finally decides to have dinner at his place, which he's barely lived in since he's mostly at Harry's every night, ordered in from one of the fancy restaurants Harry likes. Louis and Niall arrive beforehand to help Liam set up. Louis brings candles because he swears Harry loves them and Niall chooses Liam's outfit because none of them trust Liam to pick his own.

When he steps out of the bedroom, freshly shaved and in his nice jeans and shirt with a jumper layered on top, Louis makes a sobbing noise as he puts one hand on his heart and clings to Niall with the other.

"He's all grown up, Nialler," Louis says, his voice breaking just a little.

Liam rolls his eyes as Niall falls about laughing.

"Yeah, thanks for your help lads," Liam says sincerely as he ushers them out. "But Harry's due any minute."

"I know," Louis groans as he grabs his jacket and shrugs into it. "He's been texting me nonstop for the past three hours asking me my opinion on his choice of outfit and wondering whether he needs to dress smart or casual."

"Oh god he's going to expect something fancier isn't he?" Liam's head drops into his hands and he second guesses his entire plan, not for the first time. Or even the fiftieth time.

"He'll be happy to just spend time with you, ya idiot," Niall says cheerfully. "It's been a year, Payno. Get it together, would ya?"

Liam nods solemnly before he shoves them out of the door and slams it shut, calling out an apology before he heads into the kitchen to make sure the food really is staying warm in the oven, like Louis promised it was.

When he finally hears a knock on the door, Liam rubs his clammy hands on his jeans and checks his appearance once more in the hallway mirror before he opens the door to see Harry beaming at him.

"Hey," he greets Liam happily.

"Hey," Liam says, reaching out to tug Harry inside, closing the door behind him and wondering if Harry would be interested in ditching the entire date to just make out with him on the sofa instead.

But he can see the excitement in Harry's eyes and he knows he's just being selfish.

"Happy birthday," Liam murmurs as he cups Harry's head and lets his thumbs stroke against Harry's smooth skin. When Harry's dimples appear, Liam grins and leans in to kiss him. He keeps the kiss soft but it goes on and on until they're both a little breathless and Harry's loose and pliant in his arms.

"Come on," Liam says when he finally pulls back, unbearably pleased with how soft and contented Harry looks. He pulls on Harry's hand, tugging him towards the table where Louis set everything out because Liam is an idiot with this stuff.

"You got candles!" Harry claps in excitement as he sits down, his eyes shining and Liam realises that he's only gone and fallen for a complete romantic sap. It's endearing, it really is, but Liam's ... not.

"Louis helped," Liam admits because he can't help but be totally honest. And part of him wants Harry to know that he's terrible at this and he shouldn't expect this all the time because Liam just can't live up to that expectation. "I'll grab dinner."

He places Harry's dinner in front of him, grateful when nothing slides off the plate and onto Harry's lap or down his nice shirt. "It's from that place you like," Liam says as he takes his place opposite Harry. "You know I'm terrible at cooking."

Harry just smiles to himself as he digs in, making a happy noise when he tastes the first bite.

"This is great, Liam," Harry says when he finally looks up. "Perfect."

"Are you sure?" Liam asks, still worried. "My mum suggested going out but I thought that wouldn't be a great idea if someone took a picture or something. And Louis suggested bowling, but after last time ..."

"Yeah," Harry laughs. "Probably not his best idea."

"So I thought we could just stay in and talk and stuff, you know?" Liam worries his bottom lip.

Harry reaches out to cover Liam's hand with his own. "It's perfect, Liam. Honestly."

"It's just that I know you like to go out," Liam says slowly. "But I just don't see how we could ever, you know."

"Liam, it's okay," Harry half-laughs, pulling his hand back and picking up his discarded fork. "I know we can't go out on proper dates. This is just as good. If not better."

Relieved, Liam finally relaxes and Harry tells Liam about his lunch date with his mum and Gemma and the new jacket they bought him that he loves and he'll let Liam share it if he wants.

They're both mellow when Liam clears away the plates, shoving everything into either the bin or his dishwasher before Harry's tugging him towards the sofa and shoving him down so that Harry can straddle his hips and stare down at him.

"Is it time for my present yet?" he asks teasingly and Liam groans at how cheesy and perfect it sounds.

"Which one?" Liam asks, watching Harry's eyes light up.

"Let's start with my actual birthday present," Harry suggests, his lips curving up and begging to be kissed, at least as far as Liam can tell, so he hooks his hand behind Harry's neck and kisses him slowly until Harry's writhing above him and Liam reluctantly lets go because they really need to talk first.

He reaches down beside the sofa and passes a badly wrapped present to Harry, who handles it carefully. He's slow to unwrap it again, but when the box appears, the wrapping paper goes flying and Harry stares at his present.

"You got me a camera," he whispers, turning the box around in his big, gentle hands. "Fuck, Liam, this is bloody expensive."

Liam shrugs carelessly. "We're famous popstars now, Harry," he reminds him with a little tickle on his side that Harry darts away from. "We're earning good money."

"But this is incredible," Harry says, opening up the box and peering inside. "It's so much better than my old one. I'm going to get some amazing shots!"

"That's the idea," Liam says softly, unbearably pleased at how happy Harry is with his present and no longer annoyed with how many hours he spent in the shop being advised on this camera or that until his head was pounding and he had to phone Zayn to come and help him.

Harry pulls the camera out and fiddles with it for a stupidly long time, sitting on Liam's lap the entire time as he explains what some of the functions are to a clueless Liam. When he's got it all set up and ready, he takes a test shot of Liam, who stares moodily down the camera in his best male model pose. Harry laughs delightedly before he shifts to lean back against Liam and takes a photograph, checking the screen first to make sure he's happy with it before he sits back up.

"Look Liam, the picture is amazing!" Harry shows him the screen and Liam has to admit that it's a good picture. But he has no idea if it's the camera or whether it's just because Harry makes everything a little brighter and more beautiful.

God he's turning sappy.

"I love it, thanks Liam," Harry murmurs before he leans forward to kiss Liam.

"Harry," Liam says his name once as he rests his forehead against Harry's. "We need to figure out what we are. What this is."

"I know," Harry sighs as he closes his eyes. "I guess it's pretty obvious that we're not just friends."

Liam chuckles as he remembers the morning of their single being released. "No, not just friends, Harry."

"So I guess we're dating," Harry says shyly, peeking down at Liam.

"Yeah, that sounds good to me." Liam breathes a sigh of relief as he smiles up at Harry.

"Which basically means we do all the same stuff we did before, right?" Harry asks adorably, his face screwed up a little as if he's a little confused by dating rules.

Liam brushes his nose against Harry's in an Eskimo kiss. "It means you introduce me to your mum and Gemma properly, as your boyfriend. And you come home with me sometimes to have dinner with my parents. It means you tell me everything and I tell you everything. It means we're together and we're committed to each other."

"So basically everything we've been doing all year, except for the dinner with parents thing," Harry teases and Liam grins as he realises how true that is.

"I haven't been with anyone since you, Harry," Liam says honestly, wanting Harry to know.

"Me either," Harry offers with a reassuring smile and Liam lets out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. "So does this mean we can have sex now?"

Liam lets out a bark of laughter as he drops onto the sofa so he's lying down, pulling Harry on top of him. "Yes, this means we can have sex now. We could have been having sex for ages though, you know."

"Not when you kept running out of bed every morning before I could stop you," Harry points out and Liam flushes guiltily.

"Well, I thought you didn't want to," Liam protests but it sounds weak, even to him.

"You can make it up to me right now," Harry murmurs as he kisses Liam hard. "It is my birthday, after all."

"So it is," Liam replies as he pulls Harry closer and kisses him, taking his time with slow, drugging kisses until Harry's pliant against him, loose and soft.

Barely able to comprehend that he's now allowed to do this, that he can touch Harry however he likes, whenever he likes, that Harry _wants_ Liam to touch him, he reaches for the buttons of Harry's shirt, undoing button by button until he can spread his shirt and finally get his hands on Harry's smooth skin.

He hears Harry whimper as Liam's hands run up and down his chest before he leans forward and flicks his tongue against Harry's nipple, smiling to himself as he feels Harry's hands bury deep into his hair and feels Harry's thighs clench around his own. He swirls his tongue, wanting to hear Harry's noises again and again until Harry's writhing above him and tugging on his hair until he can get to Liam's mouth again.

It's a full on attack, wet and sloppy and messy and they're both panting as Liam cups his hands around Harry's arse and picks him up, grinning as Harry makes a keening noise at Liam's show of strength and wraps his long legs around Liam's waist, locking himself to Liam.

"God Liam," Harry breathes into his neck as he nips at Liam's skin while Liam tries to remember where the hell his bedroom is. Harry's got him so worked up that he can barely put one foot in front of the other. He finds the hallway and gives in, pushing Harry up against the wall while one hand cups his face and the other keeps him locked around his waist. He licks into Harry's mouth, his breath hitching as Harry rocks himself against Liam, their hard dicks rubbing against each other.

He's breathless and aching and he needs to get Harry spread out in front of him now, so he pulls Harry back and heads for the bedroom, pushing the door closed behind him before he takes those final few steps and topples onto the bed, laughing as Harry makes a surprised noise when he finds himself flat on his back with Liam heavy over him.

"Have you done this before?" Liam asks him, curious because they've never discussed this before.

"Once," Harry says before he's dragging Liam down to kiss him fiercely. "You?"

"Not with a guy," Liam says, his hands slipping under Harry's shirt so he can push it off Harry's shoulders, desperate to feel Harry's skin against his. He leans up onto his knees and pulls his jumper and shirt off in one movement before he drops back down to rub his chest against Harry's, groaning at how good it feels. He licks kisses down Harry's neck and across his chest, nipping and kissing, feeling Harry's muscles clench under his lips as he moves down. "But I've seen a lot of videos."

Harry's laugh is quiet and shaky. "Yeah, me too."

"I think this comes next usually," Liam murmurs as he undoes Harry's belt with trembling hands and somehow manages to unzip his jeans and pull them down while Harry lifts himself up to help. Liam takes a second to look at him, laid out on his bed, almost completely naked and looking more beautiful than any boy has a right to.

He wishes he could take a picture, but he's almost certain that the mental one he takes will stay with him forever.

"Liam, you're overdressed," Harry whines as he leans up on his elbows and frowns at him.

Grinning, Liam moves between Harry's legs so that he can reach up and unzip Liam's jeans, tugging them down for Liam to step out of before he lowers himself back onto Harry.

"You're so gorgeous," Harry murmurs as he runs his hands up and down Liam's back. "Been wanting this for ages."

Liam nuzzles into Harry's neck, giving his collarbone a quick nip before he looks down at Harry. "Why didn't you say anything then?"

Harry reaches down to cup Liam through his boxers and Liam's body explodes, his vision going white as he pushes down into Harry's hand, groaning as Harry starts to massage him slowly. "Didn't want to be greedy."

Whimpering, Liam tries to hold himself up with shaking arms. "You should definitely be greedy, Harry. Please be greedy."

"If you insist," Harry murmurs before he tugs on Liam until he falls onto the bed next to him and Harry straddles his hips, his hand still on Liam's dick as he licks his lips and grins down at Liam, who's watching him with heavy-lidded eyes.

Harry leans down to press soft, wet kisses against Liam's tummy until he's squirming and Harry giggles as he moves down lower and tucks his fingers into the waistband of Liam's boxers, pulling them down and off before he settles between Liam's legs and just stares at Liam's cock. Liam looks down to see Harry's eyes eager and wanting and his head falls back against the bed, groaning as he reaches down to stroke Harry's face tenderly.

"Wanna taste you Li," Harry murmurs before he leans forward to lick a slow, long stripe from the base to the head of his cock and Liam whimpers loudly at the shot of pleasure and need that runs through his body. Harry's hand circles the base of his cock as he lifts his head to lick around Liam's head, hearing Liam moaning loudly before he opens his lips and takes Liam into his mouth, tongue swirling and licking as Liam jerks up, taking Harry by surprise.

"Hey," Harry murmurs, moving his hands so that they rest on Liam's hips, pinning him down. Liam growls a little and Harry's lips curve into a smile before he gives Liam's cock a hard stroke and Liam lets out a little gasp before Harry drops his mouth down over Liam's dick again, with determination this time. Liam's hand curls around his head and his fingers dig in, like he's trying to hold himself back while Harry sucks and licks and drives Liam crazy.

Liam feels like his body is on fire. Harry's clever mouth drives him crazy and he can't seem to control his body, jerking up and wanting more. But Harry's surprisingly strong and keeps him locked down and Liam realises that he kind of likes that a lot, that he likes Harry using his strength against him.

Harry hollows out his cheeks and Liam has a brief second to wonder where he learned that before his mind goes blank and he can't think about anything. There's only Harry's mouth wrapped around him, Harry's lips on his cock, Harry's tongue wrapped around him and Harry's hands on his hips.

"Harry," Liam cries out, completely overwhelmed and whimpering loudly. He can hear Harry chuckle around his dick and the sensations of Harry's throat opening and closing around his dick are sending him over the edge. Harry pushes down further and Liam can feel his cock slip deeper into Harry's warm mouth and he can't hold back anymore. He lets out a long, loud moan as he comes into Harry's mouth, hearing Harry coughing and spluttering but he hasn't got control over himself as he comes long and hard, falling back against the bed, spent.

It's a few seconds before he can open his eyes and look for Harry, who's leaning over him with a proud, fierce look in his eyes, trails of white come around his mouth as he licks it away and Liam yanks him down to kiss him hard, trying to tell him silently how he feels, how good Harry was. He can taste his own bitter taste in Harry's mouth but he licks into him, tasting himself on Harry's tongue until he kisses his own taste away and it's just Harry again.

"Good?" Harry finally asks, and Liam can hear the slight tremor in his voice. He wraps his arms around Harry and buries his head into his shoulder.

"Best thing that's ever happened to me," Liam mutters and he's not just talking about Harry's amazing blowjob skills.

They lie there together, both breathing heavily before Liam finally finds the strength to turn over so he's lying on top of Harry and grinning down at him.

"I think it's your turn," Liam teases as he trails his hand down to Harry's hip, enjoying the feel of Harry wriggling beneath him.

"Think you should fuck me," Harry says breathily, his cheeks flushed and eyes bright as he stares up at Liam, who's frozen above him.

"Yeah?" Liam asks, his heart pounding as his dick twitches between them. "Are you sure, Harry? We can wait, or something if you want."

"Don't want to wait," Harry shakes his head, frowning. "Want you to fuck me, Li. I've been waiting forever."

Liam bites his lip nervously until Harry distracts him by rocking his hips up into Liam and he forgets all about being anxious and simply kisses Harry relentlessly until Harry's whining and trembling, begging Liam to do _something_.

He drags Harry's boxers off and takes a second to appreciate how lovely Harry's cock is, nice and thick, straining for release. He reaches for the condom and lube he'd placed on the table earlier and hands the lube to Harry, a little unsure. Harry takes Liam's hand and drizzles the lube onto it, slicking Liam's fingers up with more and more lube until Harry seems satisfied and pushes Liam's hand down, spreading his legs wider and lifting his knees until he lies back and whimpers.

Liam slides down the bed until he can see all of Harry. Nervous, he lets his finger circle around Harry's tight hole, watching it pucker and seeing Harry's dick jerk in response. He grips Harry's thigh carefully as he pushes a finger in, amazed at how tight Harry is but how his muscles shift to accept Liam's finger. He can so easily imagine sliding his dick into Harry that he has to pause for a second and grind himself against the bed, just once, just to ease the pain a little. When his finger is buried inside Harry, he takes a second to adjust, pressing a tiny kiss against Harry's thigh that has him moaning and he starts to move his finger in and out, his other hand massaging Harry's thigh as he builds up a rhythm. When he thinks Harry's a bit looser, he slides in a second finger, biting his own lip at the feel of Harry around him. He can feel Harry writhing around on the sheets and his confidence soars.

"Liam your fingers, god your fucking fingers," Harry moans above him, voice hoarse and a little wrecked.

"You're so tight, Harry," Liam murmurs as he scissors his fingers, trying to remember what he read on the internet but most of the information flying out of his head because he can hardly concentrate while Harry's moaning his name, sprawled out on his bed and looking fucking magnificent. "You look so gorgeous, spread out like this, Harry."

"Need your cock, Liam," Harry breathes and Liam feels himself harden as he continues to slide his fingers in and out of Harry's arse, suddenly desperate to open Harry up wide enough that he can get inside.

"Another?" Liam asks gently, banking down all his needs to focus on Harry, who's nodded wildly on the bed.

Liam slides a third finger in and he almost comes then and there as Harry clenches around him, babbling incoherently above him.

He knows he can't wait much longer so he stays there long enough to feel Harry easily accepting him before he climbs back up the bed, his cock aching and leaking, grabbing the lube and condom and pushing them into Harry's hands.

He sees Harry's eyes open heavily to stare up at him. "Get me ready, Harry," Liam says quietly, wondering if he's going to last if Harry gets his hands on his cock again but when Harry's eyes flash and he licks his lips, Liam knows Harry wants to do this as much as Liam wants him to do it. He's learning a lot about what he and Harry both like in bed and he's almost beside himself with wanting to explore everything at once, about how Liam likes Harry to be in control and how needy Harry seems to be, two sides that seem to be at odds with each other but to Liam, it just seems add to the excitement of all the things they can do together, all the roles they can play.

He grits his teeth as Harry's hands slide the condom down over his throbbing cock, forcing himself to focus on his breathing as Harry strokes over him again and again with lube until he's slicked up to Harry's satisfaction.

"Okay?" Liam manages to ask when Harry's hands drop away and he nods, Harry's eyes bright and wrecked as he lays back down and spreads his legs wider. Liam kisses him forcefully before he reaches down to hold himself, rubbing his head against Harry's tight hole until Harry's almost sobbing with need. Liam leans forward, holding himself up with one arm as he guides himself into Harry, pushing down slowly but firmly, not stopping even when Harry gasps and his fingers dig into Liam's shoulders. He doesn't stop until he's fully inside and he takes a second to enjoy the feel of Harry clenched around him, waits for another second as Harry adjusts to the feel of Liam hot and heavy inside him.

"Ready?" Liam asks hoarsely, his muscles trembling with the strain of holding back when all he wants to do is move.

"Fuck yes, fuck, move Li, please fuck me, I need you so bad Liam please," Harry babbles uncontrollably as he rocks his hips up and Liam gasps at the sensation. He lets go, sinking into Harry and starts to move, hearing Harry whimpering as he slams up again and again, his body on fire and his nerves alive. Wanting to see Harry come first, _needing_ to see Harry fall apart, Liam reaches between them to close his hand around Harry's hard cock, stroking him hard and tight, watching as Harry's eyes close and his face looks like it's in pain before he releases, coming hard between them. Liam thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life and he thrusts up again and again, his body slick with sweat and his mind blank until his body stiffens and he lets out a sharp yell, body frozen as he comes hard.

He collapses down onto Harry's chest, dragging air into his lungs as he feels Harry trembling beneath him.

He's completely shattered, unable to move even though he knows they should probably go shower or something, but he's so blissfully happy right now that he doesn't want the moment to end.

"Liam?" Harry asks eventually, his hands threading through Liam's hair gently. "Liam, you alive?"

Liam laughs hoarsely as he finally lifts his head and sees Harry looking down at him with an expression he's never seen on him before. "Just about, mate."

"Being boyfriends is brilliant," Harry murmurs. "We should have done this ages ago."

Liam just hums in complete agreement as he brings his arms up to fold across Harry's chest, leaning his chin on his hands.

"I think we should get a place together," Liam says slowly, his gaze steady on Harry's startled expression.

"Yeah?" Harry asks and Liam was expecting more resistance, if he's honest, but perhaps something else he'll learn about Harry is how pliable he is after sex.

"Yeah," Liam echoes quietly. "We could get our own place and it could be our little paradise, you know?"

Harry's lazy, soft smile is all Liam needs to know that he's in.

With a rush of energy, Liam hauls himself up and pulls Harry up into his arms because he protests about walking and he gets them into the shower, where they spend far too long washing each other and kissing and giggling softly together before Liam wraps them both in big fluffy towels and dries them both off before tugging Harry back to bed, curling up around him with a content smile as they drift off to sleep.

The day they move into their new place, Liam spends half the time being fondly exasperated as Harry insists on taking photographs of everything, leaving Liam to do most of the work. The one thing Harry does do is put out his albums, some full of pictures of the band and everywhere they've been together. But there are two albums full of just Liam and Harry, and they give Liam a warm fuzzy feeling whenever he sees them placed on the shelf under their coffee table. And when they curl up on their new sofa, in front of their new telly (because Harry insisted on them buying everything new and together, so that their place was really _theirs_ ), Liam thinks life is pretty fucking perfect.

Their first argument is over Harry's boots. He has a habit of kicking them off as he walks into the house, leaving them wherever they land. The first time Liam trips over them, he rolls his eyes fondly and moves them to the side with the rest of their combined footwear. The sixth time Liam falls over them, he lets out a loud growl.

"Harry!"

Harry's sheepish face peers around the corner and he winces as he sees Liam's annoyed face.

"Uh, sorry Liam?" Harry offers, but Liam's fed up with Harry's boots in front of the door and Harry's inability to wash up his plates and how Harry thinks it's okay to leave wet towels on the floor because they'll miraculously find their way back onto the towel rail.

Liam rants for five minutes about how untidy Harry is, finally running out of steam as Harry moves towards him, pausing an arm length's away with an apologetic look on his face and sad eyes.

"I know, I'm sorry Liam," Harry says, downcast.

Liam rolls his eyes because he knows Harry and he knows all of Harry's little tricks.

"I'll make it up to you, I swear," Harry offers, his hand reaching out to rest on Liam's chest before it drifts down all the way to Liam's belt. Liam's stomach clenches and he lets out a little laugh, seeing Harry grin because he knows he's forgiven. And when Harry drops to his knees, tugging Liam's skinny jeans down and pulling his hard, thick cock out of his boxers, Liam figures that perhaps even arguing with Harry can be fun. Then Harry's mouth slides down his dick and Liam can't even remember what the problem was in the first place.

Harry doesn't really remember to move his boots but Liam just gets used to checking for them before he walks in and moving them to the side because really, it's hardly the end of the world.

It's a small price to pay when he gets to wake up with Harry every morning and fall asleep with him every night. When they wake up together on a rare Sunday off and watch cartoons together until Harry gets up to make breakfast, bringing it back to bed where they spend most of the morning, sharing lazy kisses and making plans.

Their parents are delighted for them, and Harry ends up talking to Karen more often than Liam does. Harry's just really good at staying in touch with parents, he's more thoughtful that way than Liam, and Liam's stopped being surprised at getting texts from his mum wishing him luck for things he's sure he hasn't told her about but when Harry flushes, Liam realises that Harry's been on the phone again. He knows it's because he's close to his mum because of his parents' divorce and Liam's lucky enough to have parents who stayed together so he takes them a bit for granted.

Whenever Liam gets a text from his mum now, he just presses a kiss to Harry's cheek in thank you, or brushes his hand across Harry's to let him know he's grateful.

Between finishing their US tour and recording their next album, they manage to spend a whole week at home together, being utterly domestic and totally disgusting, in Louis' words.

"Seriously, your home is ridiculously happy," Louis moans as he sprawls out across one of their sofas. "You're like an old married couple, and you're only 18, Harry."

"Thanks for the reminder, Lou," Harry says wryly as he curls his feet underneath his body, snuggling into his blue hoodie and breathing in slightly, smiling to himself because he can still smell Liam on the material, even though Harry had stolen it back in January, wearing it most days and pouting whenever Liam throws it in the wash, complaining that it needed regular cleaning.

"If you don't like it, you can always go crash at Niall's," Liam points out mildly as he hands Louis a sandwich before passing Harry his, kissing his nose as Harry smiles up at him. "We can't help it if we're stupidly happy."

"Stupid is the word alright," Louis says around a mouthful of bread. "Great sandwich, Payno."

Liam just ignores him as he heads back the kitchen. "Don't forget you've got the dentist this afternoon, Harry!"

"Oh god this is awful," Louis groans, glaring at Harry who just laughs at him. "What are you going to be like in ten years?"

"Blissfully happy," Harry sighs, hearts in his eyes as he glances into the kitchen and watches Liam washing up. "You're just jealous, you know."

"Jealous that I'm not loved up at 20, yeah sure," Louis grumbles, but they both know there's an element of truth in it.

For all Louis complains about Liam and Harry, he's really their biggest supporter. When management suggest that Liam and Harry tone it down, he argues that they barely interact and the only people that know about Liam and Harry are the band, management and their families, it's hardly flaunting it for the world to see. And when management start sending out stories about Harry and various girls, Louis storms in and argues with them for two hours before he appears, drawn and pale and shaking his head.

Harry places his hand on Louis' arm and thanks him for trying, but Louis just looks defeated.

That night, Liam wraps Harry tightly in his arms and doesn't let go all night. In the morning, Harry puts a bright smile on his face and starts fielding questions about what feels like a million different stories of girls he's meant to be fooling around with.

Every night, Liam slides into him, soothing his screaming thoughts until there's nothing left in Harry but _LiamLiamLiam_ and Harry falls asleep in his arms.

Liam can see Harry developing a thicker skin and he tries his best to help, deflecting questions in interviews and getting snappy with paparazzi who bombard Harry with disgusting questions and suggestions that make Liam want to start throwing punches and not stop until he's the last one standing, but Harry's hand on his arm always stops him, bringing him back to reality.

In all honesty, he thinks Harry handles it better than he does. Harry tells Liam to ignore it, to just let it go but every time he sees Harry's eyes flicker sadly or sees Harry duck his head against the barrage of abuse, Liam tenses up like he's ready for a fight.

After a particularly gruelling interview set where Harry is asked again and again about his love life and Niall and Zayn spend the entire time messing with Liam to distract him while Louis rolls his eyes at every interviewer and looks annoyed, Harry drags him to his car and shoves him inside, proclaiming that they're going on an actual date, out in public, and if they have to dress down and make it look like they're just bandmates having dinner, then fine but they'll know.

"And I'm going to flirt outrageously with you until you're blushing and fidgety because you want to take me home and fuck me all night, okay?" Harry says fiercely as he pulls out of the parking lot and heads towards home.

"Harry, I always want to take you home and fuck you all night," Liam says on a sigh, reaching over to place his hand on Harry's thigh while he drives, tracing patterns on Harry's increasingly tight jeans.

Harry grins, but his expression remains insistent. "Well, imagine what you're going to want to do with me after we've played footsie for two hours out in public and I've told you, in graphic detail, exactly what I want you to do to me when we get home."

Liam can't help the tiny moan that escapes or the way his hand clenches around Harry's thigh.

"Shit, I don't think I'm going to last like this," Harry mutters as he pulls up at a restaurant by the River Thames, parking the Range Rover near the end of the car park in a vain attempt to conceal it because he's certain the paparazzi have memorised his number plate by now.

"I really want to kiss you right now," Liam murmurs as he reluctantly removes his hand from Harry and gives him a small smile of regret before he climbs out of the car. They're quickly shown to a quiet table overlooking the water after Liam slips the waitress some extra money and he's pretty certain she recognises Harry, at least, anyway.

"Our first public date," Harry murmurs, his eyes a little soft as they both try and push the strain they've been feeling lately away. "I wish I had my camera."

Liam's itching to reach over and grab Harry's hand, to entwine it with his own until their fingers are locked together and he feels whole again, but that's a definitely no-no in public.

They order ridiculous things off the menu, things that Liam is pretty sure he's not going to like but Harry convinces him to just try them. Pretty soon, Liam's laughing as they both end up spitting out most of their dinner and decide in loud whispers that maybe they should get takeaway on the way home.

Which then leads Harry into a long, detailed soliloquy about how Liam won't have time for takeaway because when they get home, Harry's going to jump on him and kiss him until they're both panting and grinding against each other and perhaps Harry will push Liam against the wall right there in the hallway and blow him, because he's desperate to get his mouth around Liam's dick. Then Liam has to listen to Harry filthily describe how he wants to get on all fours and have Liam's fingers thrusting into him while he mewls and begs for more until Liam flips him over and slams into him, and that's the point where Liam has to shut Harry up because he's rock hard and he doesn't know how he's going to get to the car as it is, let alone drive for five minutes before they can even touch each other.

Harry wonders aloud if anyone would notice if they headed to the bathroom together for five minutes. Liam seriously considers it for five seconds, he is really, really hard, before he hushes Harry and tries to think unsexy thoughts to calm himself down.

The restaurant becomes their favourite place to eat out over the next few months.

Liam's playing FIFA with Louis at home when Harry comes home excited and happy, smacking kisses on both Louis and Liam, although he lingers on Liam so long that Louis manages to score and Liam loses the match, but Liam doesn't mind all that much because Harry flops down into his lap and Liam thinks that's much more fun.

"Hey, guess who I met today?" Harry says, his eyes lit up and hands wandering over Liam's chest, dishevelling his clothes purposefully.

"If you say David Beckham, I'm leaving the band," Louis says as he switches to single player, well used to Liam being thoroughly distracted by Harry by now.

"No, Nick Grimshaw," Harry says as if Louis and Liam should know who that is.

Liam racks his brain but he's not coming up with anything.

"Wait, the DJ?" Louis finally says and Harry nods.

"He's great, Lou. You'd love him," Harry says solemnly. "He's smart and funny and he likes all the same music I do."

"You've got shitty taste in music, mate," Louis reminds him, reaching out to poke his side.

"Should I be jealous?" Liam asks, burying his face into Harry's shoulder to stop Harry from seeing the smile on his face.

"Nah mate, I remember him now," Louis says from over Harry's shoulder. "You're much cuter."

"Thanks Lou," Liam says dryly, but when he looks up at Harry, he's staring down at him with a worried look, biting his lip.

"You're not jealous, right?" Harry whispers, as if Louis isn't straining to hear every word.

Liam laughs, falling backwards and bringing Harry with him. "Not in the slightest, Harry."

Harry looks relieved as he presses kisses against Liam's cheek and nose and lips. "Good."

"Besides, isn't he a bit of a hipster snob?" Louis calls out and Liam starts laughing again. "Don't know what you're laughing about mate, your boyfriend could be turning into one too you know."

Harry decides to ignore both of them and concentrate on replacing a lovebite on Liam's chest that's almost disappeared, laughing when Louis leaves in a huff.

When they're rehearsing for their next tour and Liam wonders how it's ever going to come together, Louis flops down beside him, exhausted from running around with Niall and leaving him in Zayn's lazy hands while he comes to pester Liam.

Harry's off to the side on his phone, looking animated about something.

"Who's he talking to?" Louis asks, leaning back and crossing his ankles.

"Grimmy," Liam says distractedly before humming a few bars that he's a bit worried about singing live.

"Again?" Louis huffs a little, glaring at Harry who luckily has his back to them. "He's always with him these days."

"Nick's a good guy," Liam says for what feels like the hundredth time. "He's good for Harry."

"You know _you're_ the one dating Harry, right?" Louis says dryly. " _You're_ good for Harry."

"Yeah, but Grimmy's good in a different way, Lou," Liam pushes the songsheets he's been staring at away and turns to look at Louis with absolute fondness. "Honestly, Lou. Harry needs people outside of the band. You know how hard he's been finding this PR stuff. Anything that allows him to be Harry and not Harry Styles of One Direction makes him happy, and I need him to be happy, Lou."

"Yeah, I know," Louis says quietly and Liam knows he's being serious now. "But why don't you spend time with Grimmy then if he's so great?"

"You know I hate parties and getting drunk and having pictures of me in the paper," Liam reminds him. "Harry doesn't mind so much because at least he's in the paper for something other than the latest girlfriend he's meant to be seeing, but it's not for me. And we don't have to live in each other's pockets, Lou, you know that."

"Yeah," Louis says, giving Liam an odd look. "Just don't let him drift too far away, okay?"

Liam frowns, not quite sure he's following whatever Louis is trying to say, but he's not worried, because Harry is the same as he's always been.

But because Liam trusts Louis implicitly, he suggests to Harry that they take a little vacation before the tour starts, just the two of them away from the world for a few days. Harry's excited and Liam's relieved because of course he's still just Harry, like he's always been.

They rent a cottage in the Scottish highlands, where they spend most of the first day in bed until they're both exhausted and a little sore.

"We should go for a walk tomorrow, enjoy the scenery or something," Liam says as he rubs his hand over Harry's arse soothingly.

Harry hums before he dissolves into giggles. "Not sure I'll be able to walk tomorrow, Liam," he says with a hint of smugness in his voice.

Liam's first urge is to check he's alright, that he wasn't too rough on him or they haven't had sex too many times in a short period, but since Harry was the one to initiate the last two rounds and he's laughing up at Liam with a pleased grin, Liam doesn't ask. "Oh come on," Liam teases. "Can't keep up?"

"Heyyyy," Harry protests, his face dropping into a mock frown before he gives up and grins again.

"If you come for a walk with me, we can find a quiet spot in the middle of nowhere and you can tick that thing off your list that you've been trying to convince me to do all year," Liam whispers in his ear.

Harry sits up a little, wincing as his arse really does sting a little, staring at Liam with such hope in his eyes that Liam laughs and tugs him back into his embrace. "Really? You'll really do it? Outside?"

"Yeah, if we can find somewhere private enough," Liam promises, knowing that he'd do anything for that look in Harry's eyes, even if it risked being arrested and public humiliation if the papers ever found out.

"Somewhere with a nice view," Harry sighs happily as he snuggles into Liam's chest and traces his finger across Liam's smooth skin.

"Okay," Liam agrees, smiling at his boyfriend's romanticism. "Somewhere private with a nice view."

When they arrive back in London, Harry's happier than Liam can ever remember seeing him. Their break was just what they needed (he'll tell Louis later when he's prepared himself for Louis' self-congratulations) and Harry spends the next week coming home with Liam and snuggling together on the sofa.

But gradually he starts going out again with Grimmy, and Liam's fine with it, he honestly is, and he does like Grimmy, he truly does, but it's _why_ Harry feels the need to go out all the time that worries him.

"He's a 19 year old lad," Zayn reminds him when he finally gets it out of Liam, after a week of Liam being a bit more short-tempered than usual. "He just wants to go out and have fun, Liam."

"Yeah, I know," Liam says, turning his head into Zayn's shoulder, silently asking for a hug that Zayn's already lifting his arms to give him. But it still worries him. Harry's only six months younger than he is, so it's not like he doesn't understand. His mates from back home go out much more than Harry, so it's not like Liam thinks it's unusual. But it's more like a symptom than a cause.

Every time Harry goes out, leaving Liam at home, brushing an absentminded kiss goodbye against his cheek before he checks his appearance in the hallway mirror and leaves, Liam feels a little more distant, a little less confident. It's not like Harry doesn't ask him to go out with his friends, it's just that Liam doesn't want to, and the fact that Harry does worries him.

He worries endlessly that Harry was just clinging to him during the X Factor when they had no one else and now that they're older and have the world at their feet, so to speak, he's worried that Harry's outgrowing him and leaving him behind.

He tries to go out with Harry's friends, just the one time. He's miserable the entire night because he doesn't get any of their jokes and he feels like he's being laughed at. He can see Harry glancing at him again and again, frowning as if to ask why he's not having a good time and he smiles and tries to join in the conversation but it happens over and over again until Liam decides that he's not going to ruin any more nights for Harry so it's best if he stays in, or invites one of the lads round to keep him company.

And every time Harry comes home, smelling of cigarettes and alcohol, curling up to Liam like he's home and safe, Liam wonders whether Harry really feels that way or if Liam's just a constant that Harry can rely on, like an old habit he's used to.

When they hit the road on tour, his anxiety lessens but it niggles at the back of his mind. Every time Harry's on his phone, texting or DMing. When Harry disappears for a few hours to be by himself. When Harry spends his days with Cal or Lou, rather than Liam.

He's not sure how Louis knows, but every time he feels down or misses Harry or worries about their relationship, Louis' there to distract him, to draw him out and cheer him up.

It's not that anything's changed really between him and Harry. They still sleep together every night, although they have to save their bedroom activities for when they have a hotel night or if the boys are kind enough to give them an hour or two on the bus alone. "You have to clean up after though boys, cleanliness is next to godliness and all that!" was Louis' only command. Harry still speaks to Karen most days, making sure she's up to date with everything. Harry still takes photos in every city they play in and is always fiddling with it during their downtime, although Liam struggles to remember the last time Harry took the camera out for just the two of them. And perhaps, deep down, that's what scares Liam the most. Harry's stopped documenting their lives together, and Liam didn't realise how much he relied on that, how much he loved that, until Harry stopped.

He hopes it's just in his mind, but when they get home for a much needed break before they head off to the US, their first night Harry's out the door, heading to Nick's for a few drinks, leaving Liam alone.

He remembers a time when he wanted to be alone, when he liked being alone. But Harry changed all that and he can't bear it now. Being alone now means Harry doesn't want to be with him, means being without Harry, and that fucking terrifies him.

When Harry crawls into bed at past two in the morning, he curls up to Liam like usual, pressing a sloppy kiss against his head and Liam can smell the alcohol on him. He shifts, moving away from Harry and distancing himself from the pain he can see coming down the road. He feels Harry's hand drop from his waist and they sleep separated by a few inches that feel like a abyss for the first time ever.

In the morning, Liam returns from his run to find Harry sitting at the table, eating cereal and carefully avoiding his gaze. Their conversation is stilted, another first for them, and Liam's almost relieved when Harry heads out to see Gemma. He keeps his head down when Harry leaves, and he makes no attempt to kiss Liam goodbye.

Liam goes to Louis' house and ends up staying there until the early hours of the morning. He sends Harry a text to let him know he's going to crash at Louis' for the night, not even sure if Harry's home or out with Nick.

He can see Louis' worried glances but Louis doesn't ask and Liam doesn't confide. It's too painful. He can feel Harry disappearing and he can hear Louis telling him not to let Harry drift too far away and he finally understands, but he's terrified that it's too late, that Harry's already slipped away too far, leaving him behind.

He's alone.

Liam's started to lose count of how often he pretends to be asleep when Harry slips into bed next to him. How often Harry's hand brushes his hip only for Harry to turn around and face the other way. How often they're left alone with awkward silences that neither of them seem to understand.

Liam feels utterly lost. He doesn't know how to work things out with Harry. They've been so in sync for so long, and they've never even really argued in their entire relationship, not anything that's lasted longer than half an hour and ended in anything other than a blowjob or sex, anyway. He's miserable and he thinks maybe Harry is miserable too but he can't seem to reach out, too scared that Harry will push him away.

So they spend the entire US tour not really talking, but sharing a bed every night with the distance between them growing until they can barely look at each other.

On their final night, the final leg of their US tour, their most successful tour to date with dates already being lined up for next year's tour and the album they've spent so much time and effort working on, writing their own lyrics and being a real part of the process, they come together for a group hug. Liam's squashed between Niall and Zayn but he feels Harry's hand on his shoulder, warm and big and comforting. He glances up, sees Harry staring at him with a look that Liam can't decipher but he twists his arm so he can put his hand on Harry's back, gripping tightly. He tries to remind himself that they're onstage, in front of thousands of fans, but all he can do is stare back at Harry while the rest of the boys duck their heads and try to pretend that they haven't noticed.

Eventually though Louis reminds them that they have to take their final bows so they break and line up, and by mutual consent Harry and Liam stand together, arms wrapped around each other's waists as they take a bow. Liam thinks he imagines the graze of Harry's fingers across his bare skin, just above his jeans but he shivers anyway.

That night, when Harry slips into the bunk, Liam doesn't pretend to be asleep. Taking a deep breath, reminding himself that he doesn't have to brave because this is Harry and they've been through everything together, he turns around and buries his head into Harry's chest, not giving him a chance to turn away. When he feels Harry's arms tighten around him, he holds back a sob of relief and just holds on for dear life.

He wakes up to Harry pressing kisses against his chest and Liam's hand trembles as he sinks his fingers into Harry's hair. Without looking up, Harry sinks his teeth into Liam's chest, sucking until he's been branded with the darkest lovebite Harry's ever given him. When he's finished with that one, he sinks his teeth into Liam's neck and Liam can't resist him, knows he shouldn't be caught with a lovebite on his neck but he's just so stupidly happy that Harry's touching him again that he can't stop him. He can't see it, but he thinks it's probably just as angry-looking as the one on his chest.

Liam drags Harry up to press a fierce, hard kiss against his moan, whimpering as he feels Harry's hands rake across his scalp. He's already achingly hard, desperate for Harry as he rocks up against him, trying to find some relief as his dick rubs against Harry's.

Too long. It's all he can think, as he rolls his hips up, hearing Harry gasp above him before his teeth sink into Liam's neck and he's gasping as well. He can vaguely hear scrambling and feet hitting the floor and doors slamming, but he's distracted by how good he feels and how right it feels to have Harry in his arms again, moaning and making those noises he's missed so much.

They're both too wound up to last long and it only takes Liam a few more rolls of his hips before he feels the tension leave his body as he comes hard, his head dropping back against the pillow as Harry grinds down again and again, seeking his own release.

"Come on, babe," Liam whispers, reaching up to cup his neck and bringing him down for a gentle kiss, easing him through. "Let go."

Harry whines into his mouth, almost a half-sob before he comes, Liam holding him up until he's finished and falls onto Liam's chest, both of them breathing hard, their arms enveloping each other like they're afraid to let go.

Their kisses are lazy and deep and entirely drugging, until Harry finally slips out of bed to jump in the shower before he's due to make a contracted solo appearance across town and Liam stares at the ceiling, wondering if what they've just shared is the start of them finding their way back to each other, or whether it was simply goodbye.

When Harry comes back to the bus after his obligations are fulfilled, he flops down into Liam's lap, ignoring that he's playing FIFA with Niall and nuzzles into his neck. Liam throws the controller down and cuddles him closer, smiling as he convinces himself that they're back to normal.

Everything's brilliant until they get home. Tired and jetlagged, Liam's annoyed when Harry's boots block his way when he comes home from the shops where he's grabbed some essentials for dinner. He's planning to make pasta, mostly because it's the one dish he can actually make, but he figures he can add candles and all that stuff he did (with Louis and Niall's help) from their first date and maybe then he'll get rid of this nagging feeling inside that he can't seem to shake.

He yells at Harry to move them, more annoyed when Harry just mumbles something but doesn't appear. In annoyance, he kicks them to the side and glares at the offending boots as he stalks into the kitchen.

An empty, used mug stands by the sink, and Liam bites his lip hard, determined not to get into another fight because it's just a mug and it's nothing Harry hasn't done a million times before.

But it's just another thing that piles onto the silent list in Liam's head of Harry not caring. Harry not being considerate of Liam when he knows it irritates him and he doesn't want to finish that thought.

_Because he doesn't care._

He starts dinner, washing the mug as he goes and placing it carefully on the draining board when really he wants to throw it against the wall and rage about how his relationship has come down to a bloody mug.

Liam's just finishing setting the table, candles and everything, when he hears Harry coming down the stairs. He steps into the hallway, a bright smile fixed on his face, a determined look in his eye when he notices that Harry's all dressed up. Like he's on his way out. Liam's face drops but he quickly covers it, leaning in the doorway so that Harry can't see the table all dressed up for the evening.

"You're going out?" Liam asks, his anxiety rushing back to flood his body with a strange tremble that he can't seem to control.

"Yeah, I haven't seen everyone in forever," Harry says distractedly as he checks his boots in the mirror one last time.

"Can't you stay in, with me?" Liam asks in a small voice. It's the first time he's ever asked it of Harry, the first time he's ever asked Harry to choose him over his mates. He feels sick. When Harry glances over with a frown, Liam feels even worse.

"Liam, I've told them I'm coming over," Harry says with a slight edge to his voice that has Liam leaning away slightly. "I haven't seen them in weeks. I've just spent the last five weeks with you on a crowded tourbus."

"But we haven't spent any time together, just the two of us." Liam's voice is barely a whisper as he watches Harry's eyes narrow slightly and flicker towards him.

"And whose fault is that?" Harry asks quietly before he opens the front door and leaves the house, the door closing quietly behind him.

Leaving Liam alone. Again.

He throws dinner in the trash, not hungry at all and he curls up on the sofa, reliving the last six months of their relationship as he tries to pinpoint the moment it all went so wrong, but he can't.

He gets a text around half 11 from Harry. He's tempted to delete it, but he can't.

**I'm sorry Liammmm, I should have told you I was going outttt. Miss youuuu xxxxxx**

There was a time when he'd been charmed by Harry's drunken texts, amused by Harry picking up Liam's bad texting habits when he's had a drink. But tonight he can't find anything funny and doesn't find it charming at all. He's mostly sad and a little angry. He turns his phone off and heads to bed, hoping he'll fall asleep before Harry wanders in, surrounded by the scent of stale alcohol and cigarettes.

Liam spends more and more time with the rest of the lads while Harry spends most of out with Gemma or Nick, Liam's not quite sure when he's with who because they've almost stopped talking. When he turns up on Louis' doorstep, eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep and the horrible urge to cry, Louis tugs him inside and sits on the sofa with him all night, until Liam finally falls into a fitful sleep.

In the morning, Louis says nothing, much to Liam's relief, but he knows it's time. He has to talk to Harry.

Having made a decision, Liam walks home and steps into their house, only to find Harry gone.

He spends most of the day waiting for him to return, but he doesn't. He doesn't come home all night, which Liam thinks is perhaps his revenge for Liam doing the same last night.

Liam stares at their albums, sitting gathering dust on their shelf. There's been no new album filled with new photographs because there's been no photos for months. Liam can't remember the last time he saw Harry wear the stupid hoodie he bought for his birthday either, as he sits there in the dark, just waiting. There was a time when Liam thought Harry would never wear anything else when it was just the two of them at home, Harry was either naked or in that damn hoodie, there was no in-between. He knows where it is, he's seen it tucked away in Harry's side of the wardrobe, fallen down behind a few boxes where it's been lying for months, forgotten.

He remembers feeling tired during boot camp and he wants to laugh at his 16 year old self because that wasn't even close to being tired. At 17, he'd had no idea of his own capacity for giving more, for working harder, for pushing himself further. At 19, almost 20, he knew. At 19, he nearly pushed himself too far, thinking that he was invincible and could do anything. But now he knows better. Now he knows that he's breakable and everything around him is fragile, even if it seems strong. Even if _he_ thinks he's strong. Even while he's desperately trying to be strong.

Harry comes home around midday. Liam fell asleep on the sofa, not wanting to go upstairs and sleep in their bed, not now. Not when he's wondering where Harry slept last night and whether he's been stupid to trust Harry, to believe in their relationship, even though it's in tatters.

When he walks into the living room, he pauses and Liam just stares up at him, a quiet sadness in his eyes. He sees Harry bite his bottom lip before he sits slowly in the chair opposite, facing Liam like it's their judgement day. And Liam supposes it probably is, one way or another.

"You look tired," is what Liam says, because Harry does. It's the first time he's really looked at Harry in a long time. He's paying attention because he feels like he can now, because perhaps it doesn't matter anymore.

Harry doesn't say anything. He just watches Liam carefully, his body tense as he sits forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Did you have a nice night?" Liam tries, not sure how exactly to talk to this Harry, and that might be the saddest thing of all, he thinks.

"Is this another dig at my partying?" Harry asks almost casually, as Liam frowns. "I'm an adult, Liam, I can go out and drink and party all I like. I still turn up for work on time and I still do everything that's asked of me."

Liam can hear the accusation in Harry's voice, even if he doesn't say it. _You're not my dad, Liam. Stop trying to manage me_.

"That's not what I'm doing," Liam says with a heavy sigh, his eyes pleading for Harry to understand. "I just worry, that's all."

"Well, you've not been worrying about me for a while now, so why the sudden interest?" Harry says almost angrily.

"That's not true," Liam denies, shaking his head as if to block out Harry's accusation. "I always worry about you."

"Not enough," Harry says with a sigh, his anger clearly dissipating as sadness falls over him like a cloak. "What's happened to us, Liam?"

"I don't know," Liam says honestly as he stares at the ground, wondering if this is it. If this is the moment his entire life comes crashing down. He'd thought, once upon a time, that it would be the end of the band that would be the worst day of his life. He knows better, now. "Louis thinks you've drifted away."

He's about to add something about how Liam doesn't think that's true, that Liam knows it's something more intrinsic than that, but before he can speak, Harry's up on his feet, glaring at Liam. "For once, can we leave Louis out of our fucking relationship?"

In shock, Liam stares up at Harry blankly.

"Every time I turn around, you're together, cuddling on the sofa or whispering to each other and for once, perhaps we can have a conversation that doesn't involve Louis like he's some kind of wise genius who knows you better than I do," Harry says, his face flushed and his hands moving so quickly that Liam can't keep up.

"What?" Liam jumps to his feet with some idea of reaching out to Harry, to tell him that he's wrong, that Louis doesn't know even half of what's inside Liam, not like Harry does, that Louis doesn't know that Liam sometimes has nightmares that wake him up, a scream dying on his lips and that Liam likes it when Harry rocks him back to sleep, or that Liam likes it when Harry's dominant in bed and likes to lose control in the bedroom, or that Liam likes it when Harry's a needy, whimpering mess in bed for him. Louis doesn't know that Liam wants milk and cookies when he's not feeling well or that Liam likes it best when he and Harry are curled up on the sofa watching trashy telly while Harry strokes his hip, or that Liam's favourite smell is Christmas trees and hot chocolate, which is why Harry makes it for him so often during December. Louis doesn't know that Liam sings in the shower or that his favourite sight in the whole world is Harry when he's just waking up and looks sleepy and cuddly. Louis doesn't know a million intimate details about Liam, _Harry_ does, but before he can say any of this, Harry's off again.

"You never choose me over them. You're always with Louis and even Nick thinks so and-"

"What?" Liam spins around furiously, his temper going straight out of the window as he hears Nick's name. "What the hell does Nick have to do with anything?"

"We've been talking and he thinks-"

"So you've been talking to Nick about our relationship, while you haven't spoken to me in months?" Liam's beyond mad now, and he blindly thinks that perhaps he's jealous after all. Jealous of the time Harry's spent with Nick that he hasn't spent with Liam, jealous of the conversations they've had that Liam hasn't been a part of, jealous of anyone who has Harry when he's losing him right now, right in front of him. "Were you with Nick last night, Harry? Is that why you didn't come home?"

The words are out before Liam can stop him and he sees Harry staring at him in shock. The room falls deadly silent as Liam feels despair settle over both of them, and he knows for certain. He knows this is it.

He knows Harry hasn't cheated on him. The thought has never even crossed his mind, not once. But something inside him needs to know if Harry's ever thought about it. He needs to know if Harry's ever wondered, if he's ever wanted to. Because deep down, Liam's never really believed that he's enough for Harry. That Liam Payne from Wolverhampton could ever be enough for Harry Styles, favourite member of One Direction, friend to all the celebrities and the first one requested for any promos or interviews. How could he be enough? He's just Liam.

"What are you asking me, Liam?" Harry asks, too quietly.

Liam flinches from his own thoughts. He doesn't want to know. His eyes close as the words feel like they're being forced out of him, like he has no control anymore. "Do you want him? Have you been faithful?"

It's quiet for so long that Liam wonders if Harry's just left. He opens his eyes to see Harry staring at him like he doesn't know him anymore, and Liam wonders for a second if that's true. He feels like he doesn't even know himself anymore.

"Get out," Harry whispers, his tone flat as if that could hide the heartbreak Liam can see in his eyes. As if he doesn't know Harry better than he knows himself. He can see Harry is breaking right in front of him and he's desperate to walk across the room, walk across the divide between them and comfort him, but he can't. That's not his job anymore.

Liam's own heart is breaking just as painfully, ripping inside him as if it'll never mend again because Harry holds half of him and always will. But it's over. There's no more Liam and Harry, something that's just starting to filter through the fog in his brain. Just two halves of a whole, and that's all they'll ever be from now on, living two separate lives. And Liam needs to get out of their house, needs to be alone and to just breathe because he's suffocating under the weight of his own pain. He can't process the thought of being without Harry, of not holding him or kissing him or growing old with him. But there's something broken between them and Liam can't fix it because he doesn't know how.

So he walks away, leaving Harry sobbing behind him. And he wonders if he'll ever forgive himself for causing that sound, that broken sound that will haunt him forever. And then he wonders if he'll ever be able to pinpoint one thing about this that was more painful than the rest, because as far as he can tell, every single moment of today, of the past few months, has broken his heart a million times over and he doesn't know how to even begin to think about what he does next.

He walks upstairs like he's on automatic pilot, packing a few things, shoving everything in a bag, not even paying attention to what he's picking up. Before he leaves their bedroom, the room they were so happy in once, for so long, he grabs the forgotten hoodie, half hidden in the wardrobe and throws it into the bag, zipping it up and walking down the stairs, out of the house so he doesn't have to hear Harry sobbing, doesn't have to think about how he's leaving everything behind.

He calls Zayn.

The first day, Liam pulls on Harry's hoodie, breathing in the traces of Harry and doesn't speak. Zayn doesn't ask, just holds onto him silently. Liam can't seem to make his brain function. All he can think about is _HarryHarryHarry_ and how much he misses him already.

The pain is unbearable.

On the second day, Liam doesn't even get out of bed. He buries himself under the covers and tortures himself with memories of how fucking happy he and Harry had been, once. He writes Harry a million texts and deletes them all unsent.

On the third day, Zayn yanks him out of bed, pulling the hoodie off him despite Liam's protests and into the shower. Afterwards, Liam drags the hoodie back on over his head and crawls into bed, staring blankly at the wall for the rest of the day while he tries to imagine his life without Harry.

He can't.

On the fourth day, Zayn sits him down and waits.

"We broke up," Liam says, the words sound odd and wrong on his lips. Everything seems wrong. He's not supposed to wait up alone in Zayn's guest room. He's meant to wake up at home, Harry wrapped around him and wheedling a cup of tea out of a fondly exasperated Liam. That's what he wants. That's all he's ever wanted, forever.

Zayn doesn't look convinced. "You probably just needed a little break. If you call him, I'm sure you can sort whatever it is out."

Liam looks at Zayn sadly, his heart still absolutely broken. "You don't know what it's been like, Zayn. You don't know what I said. What I accused him of."

"Maybe not," Zayn says, not asking. "But I know you. And I know Harry. And I know you fucking adore each other, so I also know you'll sort this out, if you stop being stubborn prats and talk to each other."

"I'm sure we can be civil enough to get through band stuff," Liam says, a little dubious. They're scheduled to fly to Australia in a month and Liam can't see him ever being okay with seeing Harry every day, singing with him every day and being in close proximity with him every day when he can't touch him, can't kiss him, can't _be_ with him.

"Liam, stop being an idiot and just apologise, okay? Just kiss and make up and everything will be alright, I promise, okay?" Zayn gives him a gentle shove but Liam just shakes his head.

"Not this time, Zayn," he says quietly as he tugs the hoodie closer around him. "It's not anything I can fix. I can't make Harry want me. I can't make Harry do anything."

Over the next few days, Zayn tries again and again to force Liam to call Harry, but Liam remains adamant. He keeps his phone glued to his hand but the texts that come through are from Louis ( **You're both being wankers, just CALL HIM** ) and Niall ( **Come on mate, just talk to him yeah?** ) and his family, who don't appear to know that anything's wrong ( **What do you want for your birthday? Can't get hold of Harry, he's our usual source of ideas! Love Mum xxxx** ).

Niall comes around and it's clear Zayn's called him for backup. He knows no one can resist Niall, but Liam just curls up into his side and stays silent, no matter how stupid Niall gets in an attempt to find Liam and bring him back.

As Liam's birthday approaches and he shows no signs of leaving Zayn's house or contacting Harry because Liam knows it's futile even if his bandmates don't, Louis turns up. Liam can hear him talking to Zayn by the front door and he closes his eyes as he prepares for the onslaught.

When he feels a soft body cuddle up to him, he opens his eyes in confusion.

"Hey Payno," Louis mumbles against his side.

"Hey Tommo," Liam echoes, wondering if Louis' okay.

Zayn falls into his other side and they sit in silence until Liam can't stand it anymore.

"Come on, Lou," he groans. "I can't take the suspense. Don't you want to shout at me and tell me I'm being stupid or something?"

"Oh, every day," Louis says matter-of-factly. "But not today. I've had enough of Harry all week."

"You've seen Harry?" Liam asks too quickly, his head whipping around to stare at Louis as if, if he looks hard enough, he can see Harry through Louis' eyes.

"I've spent all bloody week with him," Louis grumbles but his eyes are soft, his hand comforting on Liam's shoulder. "He's a mess, Liam."

Liam can't bear it. He falls into Louis' shoulder and his whole body shakes, but he doesn't cry. He can't. If he lets go ... he just can't.

"He's a wreck," Louis says quietly. "And he won't tell me what happened, only that it's over and there's no going back. I don't believe him and Zayn doesn't believe you. So why don't you just tell me what happened and we can figure out a way to fix it, hmm? We all know you two are terrible at this stuff, so really it's down to us to fix it for you, okay?"

Liam just shakes his head, not moving from where he's buried in Louis's arms.

"Let us fix it, Liam," Zayn pleads quietly. "We need to fix it."

"I promise we'll be okay for the band," Liam mumbles, more foolishly hopeful than convinced.

"Not for the band, you twat," Zayn sighs, ruffling Liam's hair. "For you and Harry."

"He's better off without me," Liam whispers, keeping his head ducked down even when Louis tries to pull him up.

"If you believe that, you're a bigger idiot than I thought you were," Louis says crossly. "What a load of crap, Liam Payne. What are you even saying?"

"Look, I know you're trying to help, but there's nothing left to save," Liam says, forcing himself to say the words, hoping that once the pain recedes, he'll start to heal. "We broke a long time ago and there's nothing we can do about it, okay? We just, we're not the same people anymore. Harry needed me during X Factor and then it just kind of became a relationship. But he's moved on and I need to too. And you guys trying to pretend that it'll all work out aren't helping, because it's not going to work out and I can't talk about this anymore, okay?"

"Okay Liam," Zayn soothes, stroking his back as Liam welds himself to Louis, who keeps quiet for once.

When Louis finally gets up to leave, late into the night when Liam's been half dozing, he brushes Liam's hair back from his sleepy face and drops a kiss on his head. "Perhaps there's nothing left to save, Liam, but that doesn't explain why you're still wearing his hoodie."

Liam just closes his eyes, waiting for Louis to leave before he pulls the hoodie closer around him.

Liam's birthday comes and goes without much fanfare. Liam doesn't want to celebrate and none of the boys have the heart to force him out or to have a good time when he's clearly miserable.

They bring takeaway round and put the telly on quietly in the background while the boys chatter about what they've been up to, carefully avoiding the subject of Harry. Liam just half-listens, trying desperately not to remember how last year Harry took him to their restaurant by the river and Liam finally gave in to Harry's pleading for a birthday handjob in the bathroom, Liam coming in record time half because of the _fear_ of getting caught and half because of the fear of getting _caught_. They finished their meals with quiet giggles and flushed faces, certain that everyone in the room knew what they'd been up to before they'd gone home and Harry had fucked Liam slowly until he was sobbing underneath Harry and Harry had come in an absolute fog.

When the lads leave and Liam crawls into bed, pulling Harry's hoodie back on because Zayn hadn't let him wear it earlier, he stares at his phone, willing it to ring or vibrate with a text message. But there's only one person he wants to hear from and the phone remains silent.

He falls asleep, phone clutched tightly in his hand.

When he wakes up, still tired and feeling irritable, Liam hears what sounds like Zayn on the phone. He tries to block it out, but Zayn's annoyed, which means he gets louder without realising it.

"Louis, stop interfering. Liam asked you not to, so you should listen to him."

"I don't care how stupid you think they're both being, it's their mess to sort out if they want to."

"Louis, don't you dare!"

"I swear to God, Louis, if this backfires ..."

"Fine. But this is on your head, Louis. Don't blame me when it all goes wrong."

"Yes, you can take all the credit if it works. Just leave me out of it, okay?"

"Bye, Louis. And good fucking luck."

Liam just buries his head under the covers.

He drags himself out of bed and into the shower before pulling Harry's hoodie back on, not caring if Louis wants to make another comment. It's comforting and it smells like Harry and Liam just doesn't give a fuck anymore. If he wants to wallow and mourn his relationship, then he will and Louis can just go to hell.

He spends most of the day just waiting for Louis to turn up. By the time Zayn answers the door, Liam's a bundle of nerves and he's sitting on his hands to stop himself fidgeting. Zayn's banned him from drinking anything with caffeine in it but he's too wound up to sit still. He hates sitting still.

When he turns around to find Louis at the door, he frowns because he's carrying four heavy-looking books in his arms.

"It's fine Zayn, don't offer to help or anything," Louis' grumbling, but Zayn just shrugs and walks out, leaving Liam alone with Louis and his books. "Fucking wanker."

Louis ambles slowly over to Liam and drops the books onto the coffee table before flexing his arms and wincing, massaging his biceps as he stretches his arms out and bends them back in. "Jesus they're heavy."

"What are they?" Liam asks, curious in spite of himself. They're big books with black leather covers, but Liam can't really see them properly because Louis is standing in front of him, circling his arms around like he's trying to return feeling to them.

"These, Liam Payne, are your reward," Louis says seriously as he drops down to sit on the edge of the coffee table, still blocking Liam's views of the book. "But you have to work for them first."

"Okay," Liam says warily. He's aware of what Louis' games are like and he knows he won't want to play, but he's kind of curious in spite of himself about the books.

"Harry won't tell me what's wrong," Louis says slowly, watching Liam carefully, seeing how Liam's gaze flickers to the floor and his expression drops. "And you won't tell me what's wrong. But Harry's fucking beside himself and can't stop crying and you're cooped up here, not getting out of bed and living in Harry's hoodie. So someone needs to take charge and luckily for you, that someone is me."

"Louis -" Liam starts but Louis holds up his hand and Liam stops, biting his lip hard. He just can't hear about Harry and how this is hurting him because he wants to race over to their house and haul him into his arms, but that's not his right anymore. It's not what Harry needs right now.

"So if you tell me what happened, I'll let you see inside these albums and maybe you'll want to rush over to Harry and sort things the fuck out," Louis says, running his hand over one of the books.

And oh. "They're albums?" Liam asks, his eyes running over them again. Of course they're albums. "Harry's albums?"

"From his personal collection," Louis confirms.

"I've never seen them before," Liam says quietly, his voice utterly wretched. Yet another secret, is all he can think.

"Because Harry is a fucking idiot and you're a menace and together you're a bloody nightmare," Louis sums up succinctly. "And God knows how you've managed to hold it together this long, really."

"What's in them?" Liam asks, even though he thinks perhaps he doesn't want to know. What can Harry have kept hidden in them? Where did he hide them?

"Well, that's a secret until you tell me everything, Payno," Louis says firmly.

Liam sits in silence for a while, not willing to talk at all. But his gaze keeps drifting over to the albums and the secrets they're holding that Louis seems to think will fix all his and Harry's problems.

"Fine," he says finally, and Louis perks up, his back straightening as he pierces Liam with his intense gaze. Liam takes a deep breath and says the words he never wanted to say. "I asked Harry if he'd cheated on me with Nick."

"Oh Liam," Louis' all sympathy, when Liam was expecting judgement and anger. "You poor, stupid idiot."

"I know he didn't," Liam feels compelled to say, because he _does_ know. "I don't even know why I asked him. But he didn't seem to want to be with me anymore, he was always out with Nick and all their friends and leaving me behind."

Louis looks like he wants to say something, but Liam sees the heroic effort Louis makes to bite his tongue.

"I just wanted him to choose me for once, you know?" Liam says brokenly, his head dropping into his hands. "And he never did. So I had to ask. I had to know if he wanted Nick. To know if he wanted something different. _Someone_ different. If he didn't want me anymore. And he doesn't, so that's it."

Louis crowds him back into the sofa, wrapping his arms around him and muttering over and over again about how stupid Liam is and how stupid Harry is and together they're stupid idiots.

When he finally pulls back, he pinches Liam's thigh hard before standing up and dusting himself off. "I'm taking Zayn for coffee. We're going to get a shit load of paps appearing out of the bushes and you know how much we both hate that, so I hope you appreciate how much we fucking love you, just so you can have some privacy, okay?"

Liam nods, his mouth trembling like he wants to cry but he holds it together long enough for Louis to call out to Zayn and for them both to leave, Zayn patting Liam's shoulder reassuringly before they leave.

He feels a strange sensation in his stomach, like it won't stop swooping and rolling, and he realises it's a mixture of hope and fear. Louis seemed so convinced that whatever was in the albums was going to fix him and Harry, and he desperately wanted it to be true, even knowing deep down that it won't.

It takes him almost half an hour to lean forward and run his fingers across the smooth leather of the top album, before he pulls it onto his lap and opens it up.

The first few pictures are of bootcamp. Liam gets lost in the memories of how different everything was then, of how different he was then. He runs his fingers over each picture, picking himself out where he can, seeing Niall and Louis and Zayn is few pictures as well. When he thumbs through more pages, he sees there are pictures of Judges Houses, of him and Harry mugging for the camera back when he was still uncertain of himself, of the band. It takes him a few more pages before he realises that he's in every single photograph. He turns back to the first few pages, looking more closely and realises that every picture of bootcamp, back when he didn't even know Harry or the other boys, he's in it. He's in every fucking photograph in an album Harry's kept hidden away. He leans forward, intent in every muscle as he continues looking through the pages. As he and Harry had grown closer, he can see he features more prominently in the photos until there's page after page of close-ups of him alone. There are a few with the band or of him and Harry, but he's the constant throughout.

As he flicks through the pages, he sees pictures of him sleeping, of him laughing and him looking sad, there's pictures of him alone when he hadn't realised anyone was watching him and pictures of him mugging for the camera when he had. There's the picture Harry took of him after Liam had comforted him when he got stage fright back from the live shows and there's the picture of him and Harry from the final that Harry insisted on. There are pictures of lovebites that Liam remembers, reminders of Harry's markings on his body.

As he picks up the second album, he sees there's a picture of him asleep. He remembers that room vividly, wonders if he'll ever forget it. It's from the hotel they were in when he and Harry had their first, proper kiss. From the lighting, Liam thinks Harry must have woken up while Liam had fallen asleep and snapped it early in the morning.

His heart does a little flip.

There's the picture of the morning their debut single released, the morning he and Harry had fallen headfirst into something more than friends. Liam looks sleepy and happy and he wonders if Harry knew back then what Liam was feeling.

One photo catches Liam's eye and he pauses, forgetting to breathe. It's the picture Liam forced Harry to take, when they went to Number One for the first time and Liam realised he was in love. Liam's staring at Harry and it looks so beautiful, like it's someone else in the picture, that Liam can't help but remember how Harry smiled when he saw the photograph on the screen.

The third album starts with Louis' birthday, the night they finally got it together, or almost did, pictures he's never seen before. He's seen the ones in the albums Harry shared with him of course, but these are ones that Harry chose to never share with him. There are pictures of the two of them as they visited every country, pictures Liam remembers so clearly as well as others he doesn't. It's like an in-depth character study of himself and Liam can remember how happy he was, how there are less sad photographs in this album compared to the first. How content he looks in every one, how his eyes light up when he looks at the camera because he's looking at Harry, how he's smiling even when he doesn't realise Harry's taking a picture, because he was _happy_. There's pictures of their house, of the day they moved in and others of when they had parties or just had the boys round or their families. There's a picture of Liam at their restaurant and pictures of their picnics in the park.

The album finishes just when they started their last tour and Liam puts it away on the table. He looks at the fourth album, knowing that whatever it holds pictures of, it'll be from a time when they weren't so happy, from whenever whatever went wrong started happening. He picks the album up gingerly, placing it carefully on his lap and taking a few minutes before he turns the page.

Liam's a little relieved when he realises that he's still the focus of the album. Part of him had wondered whether the album would be full of pictures of something else. Someone else. But they're all of him. He doesn't recognise a single photograph, never knew any of them had been taken. He'd thought Harry had stopped taking photographs, but these are proof that he'd just hidden it away from Liam.

So many secrets.

Liam looks sad in most of the photographs. He can pick out their locations in some of them, but other photographs are zoomed in so closely on his face that he just can't tell. Every page is worn, like it's been handled more than the others and Liam can't bear to think about what that means.

Turning each page becomes more and more difficult until he just wants to throw the album away. The last photograph in the album was taken two weeks before their last argument and Liam can see the defeat in his whole body from the way Harry's captured him.

He's got so many emotions running through him that he doesn't know what to do with them all.

He picks up his phone and calls Niall.

Liam's well and truly on his way to being trashed, draped as he is across Niall in the pub, singing random song lines in between telling Niall how great it is to see him and how much he loves him and how much he loves Harry and how his heart keeps breaking over and over again and wondering when it'll stop.

When Louis and Zayn find them when it's getting dark and the pub is getting busier, Liam just grins dopily up at them and holds out his arms like a child, grinning happily when Zayn pulls him up into his arms.

"Heyyy Zaynie! Where've you been?" Liam slurs into his neck. "I've been getting drunk with Nialler. He's great, isn't it?"

"Yeah, Niall's the best Liam," Zayn says as he walks Liam towards the back of the pub, Louis and Niall making noise behind them to distract anyone from paying attention to the drunken ramblings of the famous boybander.

"He's great but he's not the best, Zayn," Liam pouts, reaching up to push his finger into Zayn's cheek while Zayn tries to stop him and keep him upright at the same time. "Harry's the best. Harry's the bestest person ever and I love him but he doesn't love me anymore because I'm stupid and he should have a clever boyfriend who lights candles for romantic dinners for him and looks happy in photos and makes him happy."

Zayn manages to get Liam into the car parked around the back before they all tumble in after him, cuddling around him while a tear slips down his cheek. Liam stares at the floor of the car, not listening as Louis makes an odd noise and Niall thumps the car door and Zayn pulls him into a hug.

"Let's get you home, yeah Liam?" Zayn murmurs and Liam agrees, wanting to climb into Zayn's spare bed and hide under the covers until it stops hurting so much. He closes his eyes and waits for the car to stop spinning.

He feels hands pulling him out of the car and he protests, keeping his eyes shut because the world is truly spinning around him and he thinks he might be a sick if he opens them.

"Come on Liam, let's get you inside," Niall says, and Liam thinks it's Niall that puts Liam's arm around his shoulders to help him inside.

"Home," Liam murmurs to himself. "Back to Zayn's. Not home. Harry's at home. My home."

"Okay, let's go Liam," Louis says and Liam can hear the fond exasperation in his voice.

"Louiiiiiiiiis," Liam whines as he stumbles forward, finds himself being helped through a door. "I miss him. I don't want him to be sad. I want him to be happy and smiling and gorgeous. He's gorgeous, isn't he Louis?"

"Yeah, he's okay Liam," Louis admits, laughter in his voice, but Liam doesn't understand why Louis thinks it's funny. He doesn't think it's funny. He thinks it's true.

"Harry is lovely and he should have a lovely boyfriend," Liam murmurs as he feels them shift around him and he wonders if Zayn's taken over from Niall because whoever he's holding onto feels taller and a bit broader than Niall. "Harry's the best and he should have the best, not some stupid boy from Wolver- Wolverhampton who's nothing special. Harry should have like, David Beckham or something. David Beckham is fit, isn't he Louis? He's fit and lovely and he's talented and he's confident. Harry should have someone like that, Louis. He deserves it."

Liam's voice trails off as he's pushed onto his bed and he curls up, feeling Louis tugging off his boots and unzipping his jeans. He tries to help him pull them off but he thinks he's just being more of a hindrance so he lets Louis get on with it. When he feels the hoodie being lifted, he slaps his hands down and growls aggressively.

"No, Louis, I'm keeping it on," he mumbles into the pillow. "Stop trying to take the hoodie off me. S'mine now. Smells like Harry."

Then there's blessed darkness as he falls into a heavy sleep.

When his eyes slowly open, the first thing he does is squeeze them back shut as tightly as he can, because his head is actually throbbing. He reaches out a blind hand and blesses Zayn for the glass of water he finds on the table, gulping it greedily before he puts down the glass and flops back against the bed.

The second thing he does is wonder why he's not alone in bed.

Turning, he sees the curls before anything else registers and he has a moment where he seriously tries to figure out how Harry got into Zayn's house. Then the night comes flooding back to him, about how the boys talked about getting him home and, well, Louis' right. He _is_ slow with some things.

He's a bit thinner, Liam realises as he drinks in the sight of Harry after weeks of nothing. He's a bit paler. A bit drawn and there's a new line on his brow. Liam has to stop himself from reaching over to brush his hair away from his face because the urge is so strong.

He can't fill in all the gaps yet, like why Harry let them bring him in, why Harry put him in what used to be their bed and why Harry got into bed with him, but he thinks he should probably get out of there before Harry wakes up.

But he can't resist. He can't resist bend down and brushing his lips across Harry's, a tiny ghost of kiss that barely skims his lips. He closes his eyes to try and capture Harry's taste, tries not to think about how this will be the last time he ever gets to kiss him.

Before he can open his eyes, he can feel big, warm hands pushing him back against the bed and he lets himself be manhandled, his eyes squeezed shut. He feels Harry's mouth brushing against his own and he crumbles. His hands come up to hold onto Harry's biceps, dragging him closer as he opens his mouth and draws Harry in. He can feel Harry's hands running across his body, like he's trying to touch him everywhere and anywhere and pretty soon he's doing the same thing, like he's trying to figure out if there's anything new or different about Harry when of course there isn't. He still flinches when Liam's hand grazes his stomach in a particular way, he still whimpers when Liam licks the skin behind his ear and he still moans low and deep when Liam kisses him until they can't breathe.

This time, Liam lets Harry pull the hoodie off him because he's got Harry in his arms which is a million times better than any hoodie and they're skin to skin, something Liam thought they'd never be again. He doesn't want to think about whether this is goodbye or some rebound thing, he just wants to have his hands on Harry and feel him weak and blissed out in his arms.

With that in mind, he reaches down and slides his hands in Harry's boxers and feels Harry hard and heavy in his hand. He wraps his fingers around him, taking his time as he kisses Harry long and deep before he starts to stroke him slowly. He can feel Harry trembling above him, probably as close to the edge as he is judging from the whimpering sounds Liam remembers so well. As his hand moves a little faster, the sounds get louder in his ear, working him as well until he's grinding himself against Harry's thigh, getting them both off together. As Harry tenses, Liam rocks himself up hard, coming just as Harry pumps into his wrist hard and thick. Liam keeps his hand in place, stroking him through it until Harry slumps down over his chest and Liam brings his hand to his mouth, slowly licking it clean as Harry's heavy breath tickles his neck.

He doesn't want to open his eyes or move an inch, thinks that maybe they can just lie like this forever and not have to deal with whatever comes.

Eventually though, Harry lifts his head off Liam's chest and Liam can feel Harry's eyes on him. Reluctantly, he opens his own and looks up into eyes that are so familiar yet so difficult to read right now.

"We should talk, or something," Harry says in his deep, husky voice that still sends shivers down Liam's spine.

Knowing he's right, Liam nods as Harry slides off him and curls up on his side, facing Liam. Trying not to miss his touch already, Liam turns onto his side as well so they're facing each other, hands carefully kept to themselves.

"So the boys turned up here late last night with a very drunk Liam," Harry starts, and honestly it's not where Liam thought he'd begin. "You were saying some pretty interesting things, Liam."

Oh god. He ducks his head and lets out a long breath, wondering what exactly he said and how bad it was. "I uh, don't remember."

"I'm not surprised," Harry says with a small smile that Liam only just catches. "I can't remember the last time I saw you that drunk. You were talking about how great I was and how I deserved someone great. Also I think you might have a crush on David Beckham because apparently that's who I should be dating."

Cheeks flushed, Liam wonders if it's possible to get out of this with his dignity intact. He thinks probably not. "Uh, he's quite cute."

"And talented and lovely and confident, I think that's what you said," Harry repeats, his voice softening a little. "Do you know what I think, Liam?"

"What?" Liam's question is barely audible.

"I think you and I should have talked a long time ago," Harry breathes out slowly. "I think you've been bottling some things up and I didn't notice, being too selfish to realise, and maybe if we'd talked, we could have saved ourselves a lot of heartache."

Liam's gaze can't meet Harry's.

"Do you know what I've managed to figure out, from hours and hours of talking to Louis?" Harry asks conversationally. "That maybe you're not as strong and solid as I always thought you were. Maybe you have doubts and it's my job, it's my _responsibility_ to reassure you. But instead of doing that, I concentrated on my own problems and thought you were just being jealous or needy or something. Which is crazy because you've never been either of those things."

Harry sighs when Liam stays silent. "I think that maybe I forgot that I know you, Liam Payne. Probably better than you know you."

Liam can't help but remember their final fight, all those weeks ago. "You know me better than anyone else, Harry. _Anyone_ else."

Harry lets out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, Louis spent a good two hours shouting at me when I let slip something about you two spending so much time together. It ranged from me spending too much time with my friends to you being a non-communicative twat and there was a whole lot in the middle that wasn't very pretty. But by the end of it, I kind of realised by myself that perhaps there was some truth in what you said. About me listening to Nick too much."

Liam makes a strangled sort of noise and Harry glances up. "Of course I never slept with Nick, Liam. I've never kissed him. I've never even thought about him that way."

This time Liam makes a noise that he's pretty sure he's never made before, a long, relieved, whimpering noise that has Harry dragging him into his body and wrapping himself around Liam. "Fuck, Liam you have to know that I'd never do that. Ever."

"I know," Liam mumbles into Harry's chest. "Jesus, of course I know, Harry. I never thought you would."

"So why did you bring it up? Why did you even think it?" Harry's voice sounds lost and confused and Liam realises that he's stroking Harry's back without even realising it.

"Because I felt alone and like you were choosing him and your friends over me," Liam admits quietly, his voice thick and a little hoarse. "You didn't know but when you went out that night, when I asked you to stay in with me, I'd made dinner." He hears Harry make a little noise but he carries on, determined to say it all. "I'd put candles out and laid the table properly and made pasta, which I know is a bit rubbish but it's all I can really make."

"I know," Harry whispers and Liam thinks his voice sounds a little wobbly.

"I thought we could stay in and sort things out, but you went out and it felt like you were choosing them," Liam repeats himself. "I didn't care about you going out, Harry, honestly. Or having friends. Of course you're allowed friends and you can do whatever you like. I just couldn't stop feeling insecure the more you went out, the more you chose to spend time away from me."

He hears Harry swear quietly into his chest.

"And the more you went out, the more I worried that you'd realise that you'd settled for me," Liam mutters. "That you'd realise there was someone out there who was more fun, who liked doing what you like doing, like going out and partying and stuff. Someone who was less boring. Someone you hadn't hooked up with at seventeen and kind of got stuck with."

And that's it. That's everything Liam's been bottling up inside for so long. He waits, his heart thumping.

"You're such a fucking idiot," Harry mutters, the sound muffled by his head being buried into Liam's chest.

Well, that's not exactly what he was hoping to hear, but it's not like he can disagree. "I know."

"No, you don't know," Harry says, lifting his head and he almost sounds angry. He almost _looks_ angry. "You're an idiot and I'm idiot and Louis has been right this whole time. If you don't know by now that you're my choice, always, every single fucking time, then one of us is doing something wrong. You're it, Liam. You're my fucking person. Whatever else is going on, I need you. I always fucking need you. And when you started pulling away, I didn't know what the hell to do. I've never had to work very hard at anything, and I've never really seen the need to until you starting disappearing on me and I didn't know what to do to get you back. So I pulled back as well, thinking it'd be easier. Except it wasn't, because I didn't have _you_."

Liam falls into Harry's neck, trying to listen to what Harry's saying above the constant buzzing in his head because he thinks this might be the most important thing he ever hears and he so badly wants to remember each second. His stomach feels like it's floating and his hands are trembling, but he's trying desperately to concentrate.

"I've never been stuck with you, you idiot," Harry laughs but it sounds harsh to Liam's buzzing ears. "I've stuck _to_ you because I never want to be let go of. You're everything, Liam, and if that's not painfully obvious to you, if you don't know by now that I love you so much that I wanted to just fucking disappear when you left, then I don't know what I can do to convince you."

"You've never said that before," Liam whispers, completely stunned by how forcefully Harry's describing his feelings.

"That I love you?" Harry says, his voice immediately softer, moving his finger to underneath Liam's chin so he can lift his head and look at him. "Of course I love you. I fell in love with you at bootcamp, you wanker. And I've been in love with you ever since. Why would I would to be with someone more like me? Why on earth would I want anyone who isn't you?"

"I've been in love with you since forever," Liam says dazedly, needing to say it more than he's ever need to say anything. He's never been quite sure why they've not said it before, except that for the longest time, he hadn't felt like they'd needed to, that they'd just known. Then when they did need the words, it was too late. "I realised it that night we went to number one. When I made you take that picture."

"It's one of my favourites," Harry admits, hesitating before he drops a kiss on Liam's nose. Liam wrinkles his face up and Harry smiles, endeared. "I take it Louis showed you those albums."

"They might have been the reason I asked Niall to get me drunk," Liam murmurs, flushing a little. "They just made me think of everything I'd lost."

"You haven't lost anything," Harry says fiercely. "I should have shown you those before. I should have made sure you knew that I loved you every day, even when we weren't talking."

"We should never have stopped talking," Liam counters, his eyes finally shining as he looks up at Harry with a shy grin. "Never."

Harry leans across and places his lips on Liam's, a slow, easy pressure that soothes both of them until Liam gathers Harry closer into his arms. "Move back in?"

"I barely moved out," Liam laughs, his heart fucking soaring. "I only took that little bag of clothes and stuff."

"And stole my hoodie," Harry reminds him, his smile wide and his dimples flashing.

It takes Liam a second to focus, he's so distracted by Harry's smile. "Well, you threw it behind the wardrobe."

"I hid it there for when you're not around and I can wear it and pretend you are," Harry says, trying to tease but being serious all the same. "At least now it probably smells like you a bit more."

"I've kind of not really taken it off since we broke up," Liam confesses, his eyes drifting to the floor where it's lying in a heap where Harry tossed it earlier.

"Yeah, Louis told me." Harry just looks utterly delighted. "Kept moaning that you wouldn't take it off. I'm not sure he knows the significance of it."

"But you do," Liam says and he's trying to tell Harry something. Harry smiles and Liam knows he gets it. "I guess you can have it back now."

"As long as I can have you back as well."

"For always."

When they call the lads later that day, Louis declares himself to be the saviour of relationships and ruler of the band. Liam thinks Zayn's the one who punches him when Louis makes an oof-ing sound down the phone.

"No seriously, we're over the moon," Niall tells them and they can hear the happiness in his voice. "So it's back to you two doing weird sex stuff in the tour bus then, yeah?"

"Absolutely," Harry yells while Liam flushes and drags Harry closer to shush him.

"We don't want to see you for a week," Zayn tells them and they think it's sweet until they realise that he might just be sick of the sight of them. But they've already hung up and are lazily making out on the sofa, their hands everywhere before they really realise it.

"I promise I won't go out quite as much," Harry says quietly as he traces a pattern on Liam's chest, draped as he is across Liam's body.

"You can go out as much as you like, Harry," Liam says absolutely seriously. "Just, you know, make time for me as well, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry says with a smile. "And if you've made dinner, then tell me. I'll always choose your half-burnt pasta over a gourmet meal by Gordon Ramsey any day."

Liam grins to himself because he knows deep down that Harry's unbelievably telling the truth.

The Australian tour goes better than ever, and Liam and Harry are back to being disgustingly happy, much to Louis' delight and disgust. He moans about them all the time, but Liam's caught Louis grinning to himself more than once after he's yelled at them about personal boundaries and he's definitely the one who orchestrates for them to have some private time now and again.

Liam's so horrendously happy that when they're in their favourite restaurant and Harry's trying, yet again, to convince Liam to revisit the bathroom with him, sliding his foot up and down Liam's leg to drive him crazy and making bedroom eyes at him across their starter, Liam completely forgets where he is and what he's doing when he leans over and kisses Harry long and hard until they're both breathless. It's only when Harry's eyes widen that Liam realises he's probably just done something really, really stupid.

Of course the picture appears in the paper the next day, in high definition and getting Liam's best side because Harry insists that every side of Liam is his best side while Harry complains loudly, and to anyone who calls, that it's definitely not _his_ best side, all the while clinging onto Liam's hand and not letting go for a single second while management call and yell and scramble to find some PR answer as to why Liam and Harry were kissing, on the mouth, for a prolonged period of time, while eating a romantic meal for two and with Harry's legs entwined with Liam's. Liam just smiles and unplugs the phone.

He stares at the photograph over Harry's shoulder, his arms wrapped around Harry's waist as Harry strokes his thumbs over Liam's hands. "You know what I think?"

"No, what?" Harry says with a longsuffering sigh as he watches both their mobiles go off at the same time.

"We should get a fifth album," Liam says, nuzzling into Harry's neck until he giggles and turns his head towards Liam for a kiss. "And this should be the first photograph we put in it."

Harry's laughter is swallowed by Liam's kiss and he briefly wonders who he can call to get the original from and what photo opportunities he's going to be subjected to if he wants to get his hands on the photograph, which he absolutely does. He figures it'll be worth it though as he turns around and snuggles in closer, hearing Liam hum happily as Harry tugs him into his lap. He proceeds to indecently mark Liam up across his neck and chest especially for the next time they leave the house for all the photographers stationed outside, just in case anyone missed the first photograph that clearly marked Liam as taken. But right now he's got a writhing, whimpering Liam in his arms and that's a situation that needs his complete and full attention.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [come say hi!](www.heartdidwhisper.tumblr.com)


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